


Oops!

by MissGryffindor



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jon and the Starks Are Not Related, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-03-19 13:44:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 125,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13705671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissGryffindor/pseuds/MissGryffindor
Summary: Sansa Stark has always had a bit of a crush on her brother's best friend, Jon Snow.  Jon Snow has always had a bit of a crush on his best friend's sister, Sansa Stark.  But when they act on their attraction after a few too many glasses of wine, they find that their actions have one very important unintended consequence.





	1. One - Sansa

**Author's Note:**

> POV will alternate between Sansa and Jon, and we start off with Sansa!

Sansa Stark collected her belongings from her gym locker after the Saturday yoga class she frequented had ended.  She downed the remainder of the bottle of water she’d left there, and slung her backpack over her shoulder. 

Sansa couldn’t wait to get home for a shower.  There was a fillet of salmon in the fridge with her name on it, and a bottle of red wine in her cupboard.  As a teacher, Sansa placed great value on her free time at weekends. 

When she reached her car in the parking lot, Sansa pulled out her phone to check for messages before starting the engine.  As she typed out a response to Margaery’s suggestion of a night out, Robb’s name lit up her screen. 

“Hello, Robb”, said Sansa as she answered her brother’s call.  She thought he was due back from his visit to the Westerlands today.  He’d been for a week-long visit with his long-term girlfriend, Jeyne Westerling. 

“Hey, Sans.  How are you?”

“Fine”, Sansa replied, warily.  Her brother rarely called her to chit-chat while travelling.  “And you?”

“Not good.  There’s a fault with the computer systems here at Casterly International so they’ve cancelled all flights for today.  Tomorrow is the earliest we’ll be able to fly home.”

He didn’t sound too happy about it, but a quick calculation told Sansa that a train or hire car would hardly get them home before lunchtime tomorrow. 

“Do you need me to check on Jeyne’s apartment or something?” Sansa asked.  While Robb lived with his best friend, Jon Snow, Jeyne lived alone.

“Or something”, said Robb.  She heard him sigh on the other end of the phone.  “Today is a year since Jon’s mother died.  That’s why I booked our flights back for today rather than tomorrow.  I didn’t think he should be alone for the entire day.”

“No”, Sansa agreed.  She remembered how Jon had cared for his mother during the short illness that preceded her death.  She remembered how broken he had looked at her funeral, and how she’d wanted nothing more than to simply take him in her arms and not let go. 

“Arya’s in Braavos for work, and Sam and Gilly have just had a baby – is there any chance you could go over and sort of look after him a bit?” Robb asked. 

“M – me?” Sansa stuttered.  She and Jon were, she liked to hope, friends.  Not close friends, but friends nonetheless.  Well, they were friendly anyway. 

But, if she was honest with herself, there was a part of Sansa that had always had a little bit of a crush on her brother’s quiet and brooding best friend.  Perhaps it was because he seemed to measure up so well against the men she’d failed to forge long-term relationships with. 

“I hate to ask, Sans, but if I know Jon then he most likely went to lay flowers on her grave and has spent the rest of the day alone in the apartment.  Please?  Just take over some Pentoshi food and a bottle of wine or something.  Get him drunk and then put him to bed.  Could – could you?”

“Robb…..”  Sansa took in a deep breath.  “Okay.  I’m not sure Jon will want me there, but I’ll go.”

“Thank you.  You’re my favourite sister, you know that?”  Sansa snorted.  “I mean it!”

“Until the next time you need something from Arya”, Sansa said wryly.  “Let me know when your flight is rescheduled for.  You left your car at the airport, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, in long-term parking”, Robb replied.  “Listen, I better go.  I don’t want to use up too much of my battery.  And thanks again.”

“Bye, Robb.”  Sansa closed the call, and lay her forehead against the steering wheel.  She sighed, lifted her head, and started the engine. 

Two hours, a shower and a visit to her local Pentoshi take-out and grocery store later, Sansa arrived at Robb and Jon’s apartment.  She paid the taxi driver, and steeled herself to press the intercom beside the label that said Stark/Snow. 

Margaery had been disappointed Sansa couldn’t join her at their favourite bar, and Sansa herself lamented the quiet evening in she had planned.  Midterms at Wintertown High were close to over, and she would have long days of marking them ahead. 

“Hello?”  Jon’s quiet voice came over the intercom. 

“It’s Sansa”, she replied.  He buzzed her in without comment, and Sansa walked up the two floors to their apartment.  Jon had the door open, waiting for her as she came along the passage. 

“Sansa.”  He tried to force a smile, but she could tell that he was hurting.  Jon stood aside to allow her to enter the apartment, and closed the door behind her. 

“Robb isn’t back yet.  He called me to say there was some sort of computer problem at Casterly.”

“I know.”  Sansa set her bags down on the kitchen table and winced at the clinking sound of the bottles of wine and whiskey in the grocery bag. 

“He called me after my yoga class this afternoon.  The earliest they can fly out is tomorrow.”

“Oh.”  He didn’t comment further, but sat down next to the bags she’d set on the table. 

“Robb reminded me about today”, Sansa told him awkwardly.  Jon wasn’t one to show emotion all the time, but even he couldn’t hide the pain he was clearly in. 

“I brought Pentoshi food.  And wine.  Lots of wine.”

“Oh”, Jon repeated.  Sansa took out the food, and went to set out plates and cutlery for the two of them.  She also picked up two wine glasses from the cupboard. 

“This is chicken with broccoli”, Jon commented as he lifted the lid of one of the cartons.  Sansa nodded. 

“Do you not take that anymore?” she asked. 

“I do.  I just didn’t realize you knew what I ordered.”

“You’ve ordered the same thing since you and Robb were in high school”, Sansa reminded him as she poured out two glasses of red.  “I haven’t forgotten what fuelled your study sessions.  Here, have some wine.”

“Thanks.”  Jon looked up at her gratefully, and then started to spoon the food out onto the plate Sansa had placed in front of him.  She sat down next to Jon, took a gulp of her wine and grabbed her own sweet and sour. 

Sansa wasn’t quite sure what to say.  She had no experience of what Jon was going through.  His father had died in a car accident before he was born, leaving him the only child of a single mother who had made Jon her world.  Sansa, on the other hand, had two living parents and four siblings. 

“Life isn’t fair”, she mused aloud as she looked down at the brown rice she’d added to her plate. 

“No”, Jon replied hoarsely.  “It isn’t.” 

Jon said little else while they ate and worked their way through two-thirds of the bottle of Shiraz Sansa had picked out, giving one or two word answers to the questions Sansa posed as she attempted to make something approaching conversation. 

This changed when they finished eating. 

“Leave that”, Jon told her when she put the leftovers in the fridge and the dirty dishes by the sink.  “You brought over dinner, the least I can do is wash the dishes.”

“Okay.”  Sansa sat back down and poured out the last of the bottle into their glasses. 

“I’m sorry.  I know I’m not much company tonight.  You should go, you probably have far better things to do than sitting here being morbid with me”, Jon offered.  Sansa shook her head.

“Not really.  Margaery may have been planning on convincing me to join her and a few others for expensive cocktails I can’t pronounce, but I had intended to spend my evening with wine and a DVD.  I didn’t have one picked out but I quite liked the idea of something sappy.  I can watch a DVD anytime.  I promised Robb I would come over and I am here to stay.  At least until we’ve drunk the contents of these grocery bags.” 

Sansa was a Stark, and Starks were stubborn as all hell – a sentiment Jon now voiced. 

“I forgot how you Starks could be.”  His lips almost turned up at that, and his frown seemed to have disappeared at least. 

“Come on”, said Sansa.  She held her hand out to Jon, and led him over to the comfy sofas he and Robb had facing their wall-mounted widescreen TV, before returning to the kitchen for the two remaining bottles of wine, the whiskey, and two shot glasses. 

“You trying to get me drunk?” Jon asked when he saw what she’d returned with.  Sansa nodded. 

“Robb’s orders.”  She shrugged, and then poured them out a shot of whiskey each.  “You should know as well as I do that Robb always gets what he wants.”

It took them a while, but Jon and Sansa started to make headway on the alcohol she’d brought over.  He didn’t seem to want to talk about his mother and so Sansa didn’t push him. 

Instead, he asked her to talk about the classes she was teaching and then about the War of the Five Kings.  That took them through wine bottle number two and onto number three. 

Bottle number three had finished when Sansa sighed and muttered that she’d always admired the women of that time, and how they worked to try and escape the patriarchal nature of the society they lived in. 

“You used to want to be a princess”, Jon reminded her.  Sansa nodded.  She had.  Once.  Before Joffrey’s bruises and Harry’s infidelity had taught her that monsters always won. 

She turned to face Jon properly, and couldn’t quite get over the way in which his dark grey eyes bore into her own.     

“I’m relieved now that I’m not.  Life is not a song.”  Sansa poured them another shot of whiskey, and noted that the bottle was a little under a third empty.  She couldn’t recall the last time she’d had so much to drink. 

“Here.”

Sansa downed her shot and coughed.  She turned again to look at Jon, and saw him wince as he finished his own drink.  “That has a kick to it.”

“It does”, Sansa agreed.  She looked at his eyes again, and then down to his mouth.  So round and full, yet not so much that it was like that of a woman.  Of course, the neat beard Jon wore saw to that. 

She’d always had a little bit of a thing for Jon Snow.  But it would never work out. 

He would never lay a hand on the young woman he’d always seen and known as Robb Stark’s younger sister. 

“It does”, Jon echoed.  Fuelled by the wine and whiskey they’d almost finished, Sansa moved closer to Jon.  His grey eyes were blown and she was sure her own were as wide and dark as his.  She moved a hand up to stroke his beard. 

“So soft”, she murmured.  Jon closed his eyes, and she heard the quiet growl he seemed to be trying to suppress. 

She moved closer again, and pressed her lips to his.  They opened up to her immediately, and the next thing Sansa knew she was in Jon Snow’s lap with her hands running through his soft, dark curls while her tongue explored his mouth.

Jon tasted of wine and whiskey, as she most likely did herself, and it was everything she’d ever allowed herself to imagine and then some. 

As she smoothed down his curls and brought her fingers to rest at the nape of his neck, Sansa felt Jon’s hands on her waist.  He thumbed circles into her side and had her moaning in his mouth. 

Sansa would confess to having the Stark stubbornness, but she rarely had the impulsiveness associated with those of her blood.  As she pulled herself apart from Jon’s mouth, and heard the whine he emitted, Sansa decided this would be one of those times. 

Finding confirmation in his blown pupils that he wanted to continue, Sansa quickly removed the cardigan and lacy black top she’d changed into after her shower. 

“Fuck”, Jon murmured as he stared at her chest.  “Can I?”

Sansa nodded, and Jon swept his hands up her side before cupping her tits.  Sansa moaned, promptly unhooking her bra and throwing it in the same direction as her top and cardigan. 

Jon had his mouth on her immediately.  He massaged one breast while he sucked on the other, switching sides until Sansa could feel her orgasm start to build up inside. 

Sansa started grinding against Jon, rolling her hips in an attempt to get closer to his.  It was if she was climbing a mountain and her orgasm was at the top – and every time she moved her hips towards Jon’s it was like reaching a new ridge on her way to the top. 

She could feel how hard he was getting when he changed tack, and used both hands to massage her breasts while pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the well between them and then up to her neck. 

Sansa wanted more, and she knew the sofa wasn’t the best place to get it.  She stood up, breaking contact, and spoke in a rasping voice she struggled to recognise as her own. 

“Bed.”

“Are you sure?”  Jon asked.  Sansa nodded. 

The alcohol and how turned on Jon had her drowned out the voices telling her this was the very definition of a bad idea.  In the moment, Sansa’s stubborn and impulsive Starkness wanted Jon Snow. 

And she was going to take what she wanted. 

By the time they reached Jon’s bed, he was down to his boxers and Sansa to her panties.  She took a quick glance back towards the door, and saw a trail of clothes following them. 

Jon stood behind her, and ran his fingers up and down her arms slowly and softly.  Sansa sighed.  She could feel his cock pressing into her arse through their underwear and it was already hotter than any sex she remembered having. 

Jon moved his hands, and wrapped his arms around her waist while his chin rested on her shoulder. 

“I want to taste you”, he whispered in her ear.  His voice was so low, it took Sansa a moment to compute what he’d just said. 

“Yes”, she whispered back.  Jon’s warm hands slid underneath her panties and removed them.  As soon as they had left her arse, she felt Jon’s mouth on it and moaned loudly.  She cupped her breasts and massaged them as Jon had. 

_Gods this man was good._

Jon’s mouth followed her panties down her legs, and then he shifted round.  He looked up at her from her ankles and gave her an uncharacteristic wink Sansa figured was as alcohol-induced as her impulsiveness. 

He ran his hands up and down her legs a few times – always falling short of the top of her thighs – before pressing his mouth to her knees.  He tickled behind them a little, but when his mouth moved to the inside of her thighs Sansa felt it between her legs. 

Sansa resisted the temptation to move her hand down and touch herself there, continuing to massage her breasts. 

She parted her legs slightly, although her instinct was to rub them together and generate friction, and was rewarded with Jon’s mouth reaching the apex where her thighs met her womanhood. 

Jon sucked and licked backwards and forwards, round in circles over and over again, until Sansa had peaked twice and was dependent on Jon to anchor her legs and keep her standing.  She felt her third orgasm building when she playfully held his curls in place and kneeled down on the floor opposite Jon. 

She captured his mouth with hers and could taste a tangy flavour that hadn’t been there earlier.  This kiss was sloppy and without finesse.  Their teeth clashed, and their tongues danced around each other as much as they did together. 

And yet, Sansa wanted more. 

Remembering she had come over here to help Jon, she slipped her deft fingers into his boxers and grasped his cock in her hand. 

Jon moaned loudly in her mouth, and removed his boxers.  As they were flung behind the two of them, Sansa ran her fist up and down Jon’s cock.  He was already leaking a little bit, and so she wasn’t shocked when he removed her hand and pulled her onto the bed. 

“I want you inside me”, Sansa admitted aloud.  She looked up at Jon, and saw his face silhouetted in the moonlight streaming through the window. 

Jon nodded, and leaned down to kiss her again.  This kiss was soft and gentle and spoke of something Sansa couldn’t identify. 

Jon lifted her leg, raising it above his shoulder, and entered her.  It was seamless and felt so natural.  He filled her up, and Sansa moaned. 

She pinched a nipple with two of her fingers, and worked it into a peak while Jon moved in and out of her. 

It didn’t take long for him to peak alongside her.  Sansa had figured that would be the case from the amount of leakage.  But it was long enough for them to moan each other’s names more times than she could recall while Jon’s fingers rubbed at her clit. 

“Wow”, Sansa breathed into Jon’s neck.  He had collapsed on top of her, and she felt nothing but warmth from his body. 

“Wow”, Jon panted in agreement.  “Sorry – not so much with the verbal at the moment.”

“You might not be good with words, but that’s because your mouth is so much better occupied elsewhere”, Sansa told him.  Jon spluttered, and it turned into a hacking cough.  “I mean it.”

“I’m not sure what to say to that”, he admitted.  He removed himself from her, and lay down on her left.  Sansa looked at his face, again lit only by the moonlight coming through the window. 

She reached up and stroked his beard as she had earlier. 

“You don’t need to say anything to that.”  He closed his eyes as she ran her fingers up and down the side of his face. 

Jon groaned, and took her hand in his.   Sansa sank boneless into his bed.  Her head was starting to pound, the combination of excessive alcohol and multiple orgasms sending her into overload. 

“I’ve never had it that good”, Sansa mumbled into Jon’s shoulder as she wrapped herself around him before passing out. 

Sansa awoke the following morning with a thumping headache worse than any she could remember having.  The light pouring in the window wasn’t helping.  She groaned in dismay and went to pull her pillow over her head again, when she realised she wasn’t exactly alone. 

Sansa’s eyes shot open, and she found herself in a bedroom that most certainly wasn’t her own. 

“Mmmmm.  Morning”, said a low voice from beside her.  Sansa tried to remember the night before, but could see very little through the fog of alcohol.  She had come over to see Jon.  _Fuck_. 

“Jon?” Sansa whispered.  She had vague flashbacks in which she moaned his name, but Sansa set those aside and moved slightly. 

Turning round, she saw that it was indeed Jon Snow that lay next to her in bed.  A very naked Jon Snow.  Sansa blinked wildly.  She tried again to remember the night before and failed dismally. 

“Sansa.  Fuck.”

“Yeah, I think we did”, she muttered.  Jon let out a soft laugh at that, before wincing. 

“My head is killing me”, he told her.  He sat up.  “What do you remember?”

“Not much”, Sansa admitted.  “I know there was wine and whiskey, because I remember buying it.  And because it is currently doing summersaults in my stomach.  You?”

“Same.  I remember you talking about the War of the Five Kings.  And then I remember being in here and us – doing _that_.  Wow.  I’m going to go get us some water.  And painkillers.” 

Sansa closed her eyes, though she figured it was pointless given that she’d clearly seen him naked the night before.  When she heard the door click, she looked around the room, but the only identifiable item of her own were her panties. 

Sansa jumped up from the bed, immediately regretting doing so, and grabbed them.  She put them on along with a _Direwolves_ t-shirt of Jon’s that was lying on top of a chair. 

Jon may have seen her naked, but this was the morning after and not the night before. 

“Here”, he said when he returned.  Jon handed her a bottle of water and a couple of painkillers.  Sansa downed them gratefully, and muttered that she should probably call a cab. 

Jon held up his phone.  “I have a text from Robb.  Their flight should land around four.”

“What’s the time now?” Sansa asked.  She couldn’t see her phone and figured it was probably on the coffee table or sofa. 

“A little after eleven.”  Sansa groaned at that.  Margaery would be awake, and she would have questions.  Questions Sansa didn’t quite feel ready to answer – either to herself or to Margaery. 

“Jon, I – about last night.”  Sansa bit her lip.  She had started that sentence without any idea how to end it.  

How could she tell him that the little she could remember constituted the best sex of her life?  And that she wasn’t completely opposed to a sober sequel.  Jon had never seen her in that way.

“Thank you for coming over.  I shouldn’t have spent the day on my own like that.  My mother would have hated to see it.  You – listening to you ramble on about a war that happened hundreds of years ago helped.  The wine helped.  So, thank you.  I know last night was last night and this morning is this morning.”

Sansa smiled awkwardly at him.  The small part of her that had always had a bit of a crush on Jon Snow felt a pang of sadness at those words.  “I’m glad I could help.  Robb did tell me to get you drunk and put you to bed.”

“So it was completely his fault, then”, said Jon.  Sansa nodded.  She saw him take in his _Direwolves_ t-shirt.

“My clothes are out there”, said Sansa.  She pointed at his bedroom door. 

“Why don’t you get your clothes, get dressed, and I’ll make us some coffee”, Jon suggested.  “And then you can call a cab.  I take it you didn’t drive here?”

“Nope.  And thanks, Jon.”  This could have been the most awkward moment of her life, but Jon had this way of making people feel comfortable around him.  Even if he didn’t feel comfortable around them. 

An hour later, Sansa found herself in a cab heading back to her apartment.  She’d checked her phone after calling the cab, and seen at least half a dozen texts from Margaery – texts which ranged from concerned to requests for details. 

Margaery was the only person Sansa had ever talked to about Jon Snow, and here she was coming back from his apartment at midday following an evening visit Margaery knew Robb wasn’t present for. 

Sansa was still unable to remember everything, but bits and pieces were coming back to her gradually.  The feel of Jon’s mouth on her skin, how low his voice had been when he moaned her name, how he had made it all about her. 

Sansa had never had sex as good as that in her life.  Joffrey and Harry had only wanted her to see to _their_ pleasure. 

Deciding that what she and Jon had shared had been intimate and deeply private, Sansa resolved not to tell anyone what had happened.  Not even Margaery.  She’d simply say that she’d drunk too much wine and passed out.  And that was true. 

She just wouldn’t mention passing out snuggling with Jon. 

In his bed.

Naked. 


	2. Two - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon reflects on his night with Sansa and gets some unexpected news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the lovely response to the opening chapter! I hope you all continue to enjoy. This chapter is from Jon's POV.

Jon turned off the TV and yawned widely.  He was a lawyer at Mormont and Associates and it had been a very long week at the office.  So long that he found himself exhausted at nine on a Friday night. 

Robb was over at Jeyne’s, and therefore not around to make fun of him for turning into an old man.  Jon’s phone pinged, and he felt a pang of disappointment to see it was just a sales message from his network provider.

In the six weeks since the night he’d spent with Sansa Stark, Jon had felt such disappointment on an almost daily basis. 

She’d always been off-limits to him. 

Even when they were eighteen and Jon had turned up at the Starks following their return from a summer at Riverrun, Mrs. Stark’s family home, and seen a very different Sansa to the one who had gone south. 

Over the summer Sansa had turned into a tall, willowy beauty that had completely floored Jon.  Robb had muttered complaints about boys staring at his sister, and Jon had shut his mouth.  She was his best friend’s sister.  That was all she was, and all she would ever be. 

And so Jon had pushed her beauty and her smile and her intelligence and her wit to the side and reminded himself of who she was.  Over time, he’d reached a point where he knew she was beautiful and smart, but well aware nothing would ever come of it and so pushed such thoughts from his mind. 

The anniversary of his mother’s death had not been a good day.  Part of Jon was relieved when Robb called to say he would be back a day late – the same part that had assured Sam and Gilly they should concentrate on their new, second son, Aemon, rather than bother with him. 

Jon had got up early, bought a large bunch of the blue, winter roses his mother had always loved and filled their two-bed house with, and gone to lay them on her grave. 

When he heard the buzz of the intercom, Jon had contemplated ignoring it in favour of solitude.  But it had been Sansa, with her Pentoshi food and clinking grocery bag of wine and whiskey. 

He couldn’t believe she remembered what he and Robb had ordered during their study sessions senior year of high school.  It was more than a decade since he’d left Wintertown High, where Sansa now taught. 

She’d let him be silent when he wanted to be, and the soothing tones of her voice as she talked of the War of the Five Kings had almost lulled him to sleep. 

Much of what had passed between them was lost to a foggy haze filled with alcohol.  He couldn’t remember all of it.  He could only recall flashes of the feel and taste of her skin as his mouth covered it, and the sounds she made when he brought her off.  She’d said more than once that it had been good.  That, he could remember. 

He should have returned the favour, but he didn’t want her to think that he thought of her as someone who slept around.  Jon didn’t mean it like that, but he tended not to be the best with words.  He thought he might have told Sansa that himself. 

The morning after, when he’d woken up to find her soft body pressed against his, Jon had been simultaneously happy to find such a wonderful, beautiful naked woman in his bed and devastated to know that it had happened this way. 

Sansa wasn’t the type of woman he envisaged himself having a one night stand or a fling with.  Sansa was the type of woman he wanted to build a life with. 

Over coffee, once she’d called a cab, he had apologized for taking advantage of her.  Sansa had been very sweet and reminded him that she was the one who had plied him with alcohol the night before. 

He knew he wasn’t her type.  Sansa went for blond, blue-eyed business types who looked down on Jon because he was raised by an unmarried single mother and went to college on a scholarship; because he was more interested in pro-bono work than defending the richest men in town for hundreds of dragons per hour. 

She’d always wanted a fairytale prince charming.  And Jon Snow was most certainly not that. 

But, in the six weeks since their night together, Jon had thought about Sansa Stark a lot. 

Robb had returned early evening with pizza and apologized for being a day late.  He had taken a look at Jon and known how hungover he was – in spite of the painkillers and multiple litres of water Jon had swallowed since waking. 

One thing Jon and Sansa had agreed upon the morning after was that nobody else needed to know what had happened the night before – it would only cause trouble. 

The thing was, in the six weeks that had passed since the night Jon Snow had spent with Sansa Stark, he had lost count of the number of times he’d scrolled through the contacts list on his phone until he reached her name.  His finger had hovered over the call button, but he had never pressed it. 

Their night together was something to be forgotten – though he could not forget it – and not spoken of again.  However much Jon might not want that to be the case. 

He’d gone on a couple of dates, but neither Jonelle Cerwyn nor Wylla Manderly had been enough to make him forget the sounds Sansa Stark made as she came apart under his touch.  Jon knew he had to move past it, but that was proving to be easier said than done. 

It was now nine-thirty on a Friday, and Jon pushed his phone aside again and got up to get a beer from the fridge.  There was a _Wayne’s World_ double bill on the Comedy Channel, and Jon figured he could do with a laugh.   

**********

It was seven weeks precisely since his night with Sansa Stark when her brother came home from visiting his parents with a nervous, yet excited, look on his face that Jon couldn’t place.  He was not long out of the shower, having gone for a late afternoon jog before dinner. 

Robb brought Pentoshi food with him, as Sansa had. 

“Is there a special occasion I’ve forgotten?” Jon asked as Robb handed him a beer from the fridge. 

“No.  But I do have news.  Jeyne and I are moving in together.”  Robb took a breath in and seemed to be holding it. 

“Seriously?”  Jon asked.  A grin grew across his face.  He really liked Jeyne Westerling, and she was a lot better for Robb than any of the girls he’d dated before. 

“Congratulations!”  Jon pulled Robb into a hug.  “I’m really happy for the two of you.  I mean it.”

“Even though I’ll be moving out?”  So that was what had Robb nervous.  In truth, Jon could have moved out before now.  He could even have bought somewhere for himself.  But he had stayed because Robb was more of a brother than a friend. 

“Even though Jeyne will now have to put up with your smelly socks instead of me”, Jon nodded.  He sat down, and pulled out the chicken and broccoli Robb had got him. 

“When? Have you decided yet?”

“I’ll start moving my stuff into hers in the next couple of weeks.  We did think about finding somewhere new together, but her apartment is big enough for the two of us.  For now, anyway.”  Jon nodded, mouth full. 

“I did think about the other thing, but I figured we should live together first.  Make sure she can put up with just me for more than a couple of weeks at a time.”

“You ask her today?”

“Yeah.  I’d been thinking about it for a while, and when we were having lunch at Gage’s I just sort of blurted it out”, Robb admitted. 

“We went over to the house and told my folks.  When we said we had news, I think my mother hoped we were celebrating an engagement.  Arya says she’s desperate for grand-children, some sort of empty nest theory.”

“She would know.”  Arya had majored in Psychology and, according to Robb, now spent far too much time psycho-analysing her family.

“Yeah, and since Arya is allergic to anything that looks like convention – even though she’s been with Gendry for pretty much forever – and Sansa’s avoiding men like the plague after Harry, I seem to be pretty much it for the moment.” 

Robb pushed his beef to the side of the plate.  Jon focused on that and tried not to think about Sansa. 

The two of them may have agreed not to speak of it, but Jon was constantly worried that Robb would simply look at him and see it written all over his face.  He’d been tempted to confess once, when he and Robb were out for a few beers. 

_I slept with your sister_. 

But he knew it wasn’t fair on Sansa.  Or Robb, for that matter.

“I’ll still be around.  I doubt Jeyne will put up with me around the apartment all the time.  It’d drive her crazy”, said Robb. 

“I know.  Jeyne’s not the type to think she owns you”, Jon agreed.

“What about you?  I know Jonelle and Wylla didn’t seem promising, but I could find out if Jeyne has someone she could set you up with”, Robb suggested. 

Jon smiled at him.  Robb was the type of happy person who wanted everyone around him to be as happy as he was. 

“Nah.  I think I’m fine on my own for the moment”, Jon shrugged.  He took a swig of his beer.  “Besides, I’m going to be busy at work over the next while.  I want to apply for a job that’s going in the Pro-Bono Unit, and I’ll need to put some extra hours in if I want to get it.”

“You’ll get it.  Dad knows Mormont pretty well, and says he’s told him more than once how great you are at your job.  If you apply, I think you’ll get it.” 

“Maybe.  There will be guys with a lot more experience than me going for it.”  Jon didn’t want to get his hopes up too high.  He had a long way to go in the application process before Mormont picked anyone. 

Working pro-bono cases full time was something he wanted to do, though.  His firm had a great record of helping those who couldn’t afford the high legal fees they charged.  It was one of the reasons Jon had taken the job Mormont offered after graduation, rather than joining Flint, Norrey and Wull with Robb. 

“Mormont doesn’t just care about experience.  He looks at potential”, Robb told him wisely.  “Also, I think he mistakes your brooding for seriousness.”

“I’m not brooding”, Jon protested feebly. 

He knew he thought about things too much.  His mother had told him that.  She’d once said it was something he’d inherited from his mysterious, dead father.  Talking about him seemed to upset her, so Jon tended to steer clear of the subject. 

He had figured it was something that could keep until later.  Until later became too late.

When his mother had died, Jon had sold the small two-bed he’d grown up in and dumped the money left over after expenses in a decent savings account.  Now that Robb was moving out, it made sense for Jon to do the same.  He could buy a place rather than rent, he knew. 

Jon resolved to swing by a realtor in his lunchbreak soon, and start looking for somewhere.  It wasn’t urgent.  He could cover the rent and bills on his own for a while after Robb moved out.  He could buy a nice apartment closer to the centre of town.  One around the same size as his and Robb’s. 

**********

It was eight weeks after their night together that Jon Snow found himself alone again with Sansa Stark for the first time. 

It was a Saturday, and he was returning home from dinner with Sam, Gilly and their two young sons.  As godfather to Little Sam (as he was known to everyone), Jon took his duties seriously and spent as much time with the young boy as his schedule allowed.  Jon had met Sam in Law School, and the two had hit it off immediately. 

Sam understood his serious side Robb had always poked fun at, and the two of them had bonded over a mutual interest in using the law to help people.  In their final year, they had both volunteered at a local organization which offered free legal services to the homeless and vulnerable.

Jon had enjoyed playing Power Rangers with his godson, and was rubbing the small of his back when he turned the corner and saw Sansa standing outside his building.  She was staring at the door as if waiting for it to do something. 

Jon called out her name.  “Sansa?” 

She turned to look at him, and Jon detected a nervousness in her face and in the way she was standing.  He hoped he was imagining it.  Robb had always said he was terrible at reading people (usually true).

“Hi, Jon.  How are you?”

“Good.  I was just visiting Sam”, he told her as he fished his keys out of his pocket.  “And you?  We’re not near exam season yet are we?”

“We’re never too far from exam season”, Sansa snorted.  He held the door open for Sansa, and followed her inside.  They stuck to the safe topic of her job as they walked up to the second floor apartment he shared with Robb. 

For all they had determined to be mature about things and keep their night together to themselves, Jon knew that it would take a while for the awkwardness that now seemed to exist between them to disappear into the mists of time. 

“Robb?” Jon called as he went in the door.  There was no answer.  “He said something this morning about possibly moving some boxes over to Jeyne’s apartment today.  Maybe he’s over there?  Can I get you a coffee while you’re waiting?”

Sansa chewed on a nail.  “Do you have decaf?”

“Somewhere.”  Gilly had made Sam caffeine-free alongside her during her pregnancy with Aemon, and he’d enjoyed the decaf coffee Jon bought so much that he’d stuck to it.  Jon had a jar in for when they came over to visit. 

He looked through the cupboards and eventually found it. 

“Great”, she sighed.  “I’ve given it up for the moment.”

“I sometimes think I should”, Jon admitted.  “I don’t drink those terrible energy things full of caffeine and sugar that I used to keep awake while studying when I was in college, but I still drink far more coffee than is good for me.  The life of a lawyer.”

He poured boiling water into her cup and stirred it, before handing it over. 

“Thanks.  I’ve not found the switch too bad.”

“A new health thing?”  Sansa had always been into new health crazes, be it exercise or eating so-called super foods. 

“Not really.  Robb must have moved a lot of his stuff over to Jeyne’s by now.”  Jon noted her change in subject, but shrugged it off.

“Yeah.  I think it’ll all be over there by next weekend.  Jeyne can deal with the smell of his socks from now on.”  Sansa laughed when he said that, and Jon smiled at her.  In moments like this, it was almost like things had been before _The Night That Was Not To Be Mentioned_. 

“How’s Margaery?”

“Oh, fine.  She’s actually away this weekend.  The family is gathering down at Highgarden for Olenna’s birthday.  Rather, it is Olenna’s birthday and everyone was summoned home for a few days.  Marge should be back on Tuesday.  Or is it Wednesday?  My memory’s awful at the moment.  The department is reworking some of the topics we cover in class, and I’ve spent too many hours this week looking at charts and lists Brienne sends me”, Sansa yawned. 

She did look tired. 

“You want anything to eat with your coffee?  I have chocolate biscuits.”

“No thanks.  If you have some plain crackers, then that would be great.”  Jon nodded, and fished out the ones Robb had bought in for Jeyne.  Personally, Jon had thought they tasted of cardboard. 

He set the box down in front of Sansa so she could help herself. 

“Do – you don’t have any plans?  I mean, I’m not holding you back from anything?”

“Only from trying to decide which pizza I want to order for dinner.  After that I was planning on checking out what’s been added to Netflix this week.  I don’t live the most exciting life in the world, I’m afraid”, Jon admitted. 

“Exciting can be overrated sometimes”, Sansa shrugged. 

Jon frowned as he watched her nibble away on a cracker.  Something was bothering her, he’d figured out that much since the moment he’d seen her outside his apartment building.

“Sansa?  Is everything alright?” Jon asked tentatively.  He didn’t know if he had any right to ask, but they’d known each other for most of their lives. 

And sometimes family was just that little bit too close. 

“Isn’t that the million gold dragon question”, Sansa laughed sadly. 

“First off, I should say that I knew Robb wasn’t going to be in when I came over.  I called him to find out what his plans were today.  He’s staying over at Jeyne’s tonight, but I’d guess that he’ll text you later to let you know.  The two of you tell each other pretty much everything.”

“Not absolutely everything”, Jon reminded her. 

_I haven’t told him about what happened between us.  I wouldn’t have told him even if you’d asked me not to.  For starters, I value my fully-functioning jaw and balls_.

“Yeah.  Not absolutely everything.” Sansa bit her lip.  “Oh, what the hell.  I’m going to have to tell somebody sometime and the right person for me to tell first is you.”

“Sansa?”  He was starting to get a little worried about her. 

“I’m pregnant”, she all but whispered.  Jon’s breath caught in his throat.  Of all the things Sansa could have said, that was one of the last things he had expected.  Jon stood there gawking at her until she spoke again. 

_Pregnant?_

“Looks like Robb is going to need to find out about what happened after all.”  Sansa made an attempt at a joke, but Jon couldn’t see the humour in it.  And he didn’t think she really did either given the nervousness on her face and the tears building in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Jon.  I’m so, so sorry.”

“Hey.  Hush, it isn’t your fault”, Jon murmured as he pulled Sansa into his arms.  “Seriously.  I’m just as responsible as you are.”

Jon held Sansa tightly as she cried into his shoulder, and tried to process exactly what she’d said to him.  She was _pregnant_. 

He was going to be a _father_. 

“Hush.”

When Sansa had cried herself out, Jon wiped the tears from her cheeks and handed her some tissues to blow her nose. 

“Sorry.  I’ve been a bit emotional the last couple of days.”

“You don’t need to apologise, Sansa.  Jeez, it was me as much as you.  We were so drunk.  But even with that, I can’t believe I didn’t use anything.” 

He’d never been that careless before.  But then, he very rarely got as drunk as he had that night. 

“Well, I was hardly stopping you without it”, Sansa shrugged.  “I think between the wine and the whiskey we were so caught up in what we were doing.  I should have figured the next morning, but I didn’t.  I came off birth control when Harry and I split because I wanted to force myself to take a dating break before I got into a new relationship.”

“When did you find out?” Jon asked her quietly. 

“Thursday.  I’d been feeling a bit off, and when Margaery asked if I had some tampons spare – maybe you didn’t need to know that part – anyway, I did a little period math and realised I hadn’t had one for a couple of months.  The tests I got from the pharmacy were positive, so I asked my doctor for a blood test.  Doc. Luwin called on Thursday with the result.” 

Jon nodded.  “And you’re – everything’s alright?  You’re healthy?”

“Yeah.  I’m emotional as hell, and I feel a bit queasy from time to time, but apart from that……” Sansa trailed off.  He was looking for a non-awkward way to ask what she planned to do, and what she expected from him.

Jon was ready to offer whatever she wanted.  He’d always figured he’d settle down some day.  Marry and have children.  He wanted to be a father, as much as the prospect terrified him.  But he didn’t want Sansa to feel boxed into a corner about anything. 

As much as he wanted this child, it was her body and therefore her decision.  Even if he didn’t agree with it. 

“Have you thought about what this means?” Jon settled on.  He fidgeted with his hands. 

“I want to keep this baby”, said Sansa softly.  “The timing – the situation – none of it is right.  But I can’t not keep this baby.”

Jon smiled at Sansa, and pulled her into his arms again.  “I’ll do everything I can.  Whatever you want.  I promise.”

“You’re being far too understanding”, she told him.  “I worried myself about this all the way over.  I kept telling myself that you would freak out, even though that isn’t like you.”

“Don’t stress yourself out over me.  In fact, don’t stress yourself out period.  It isn’t good for you.  For either of you”, said Jon. 

He looked at Sansa, and couldn’t quite get over the fact that she looked just like she had the last time he’d seen her.  To look at her, nobody would know that she carried a child inside her.   _His_ child. 

Sansa snorted.  “How can you be this calm?  I’ve been freaking out ever since I took those pharmacy tests on Monday.”

“Just the way I am”, he shrugged. 

He decided not to tell her that he was quietly freaking out at the prospect of becoming a father and wondering whether or not the fact that he’d never known his own meant he would be a terrible one. 

They agreed to meet for lunch the following Saturday to discuss everything further – and on keeping everyone else in the dark, at least until they had spoken again. 

Jon wasn’t overly excited about the prospect of telling Robb.  _I knocked up your sister_ wasn’t exactly something Jon thought he’d be excited to hear. 

Sansa was going to need to help him with that one.

“Thanks”, Sansa told him when he hugged her goodbye.  “For being you.  For being understanding.  For not blaming me.”

“I meant what I said earlier.  It took two of us to make this child.  And it should take two of us to look after him or her”, Jon told her.  He was determined to be as involved as he could be. 

When she left, Jon could stop trying to be the strong, together one of the two of them and have his own internal freak-out over a beer.  He couldn’t quite believe it. 

Sansa was having his child. 

_His_ _child_. 

It was something he would have said was impossible a couple of hours before.  But it was undeniable.  Now that he recalled, there had been no used condom anywhere on the floor the morning after their night together.  He hadn’t really thought about it at the time. 

Clearly he hadn’t been thinking when he was so desperate to be inside Sansa that he hadn’t considered contraception. 

But what had happened had happened.  And the result of it was, Jon was going to be a father.  _To Sansa Stark’s child._  


	3. Three - Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa confides in Margaery.

Sansa banged repeatedly on the bathroom door, hoping that Margaery would hurry up.  “I really need to get in!  Please – Marge, this is an emergency!”

Morning sickness was hitting her like a bitch today.  So far, it had mostly been a bit of queasiness – though she had been sick a few times.  But either her unborn child had picked the day she had an important staff meeting to screw around with her, or the maple syrup she’d added to her pancakes hadn’t agreed with her. 

Margaery opened the bathroom door while still wrapping a bath towel around herself.  Sansa pushed past her friend and roommate, and lurched over towards the toilet. 

She watched as her breakfast filled the toilet bowl.

“Nurgh”, muttered Sansa when she’d finished.  She coughed, and then used a tissue to wipe her mouth.  She decided stick to toast or crackers in the near future, and added maple syrup to the ever-growing mental list of things that disagreed with her pregnant stomach. 

The previous day she’d actually had to walk out of the staffroom because the smell of coffee had become unbearable. 

“Sweetie, are you alright?”  Margaery was behind her, crouched down in a green and gold striped towel that left little to the imagination, rubbing soothing circles into Sansa’s back. 

Sansa couldn’t be more touched.  Which brought on the start of tears. 

“I’m fine”, she sobbed.  She quite clearly wasn’t fine, and Margaery pointed that out to her bluntly. 

Sansa didn’t respond.  She dropped the tissue in the toilet and flushed it, before turning round to Margaery, and burying her face in her friend’s shoulder as she had Jon’s a few days before. 

A huge part of Sansa raged that this wasn’t fair.  People had unprotected sex all the time!  What were the chances of actually ending up pregnant?  Whatever they were, she and Jon had beaten them soundly. 

One night was all it had taken.  One night in which she had completely given in to the sort-of crush she’d always had on her brother’s best friend. 

“Come on, now.  Let’s go and sit down and you can tell Auntie Margie all about it.”  Margaery gave Sansa an encouraging pat on the back, and took her through to the living room.  She sat Sansa down next to her on the sofa and looked at her expectantly. 

“Sansa, it seems like you should speak to someone about what is upsetting you.”

Sansa nodded, ignoring the fact that she had spoken to someone – Jon.  Sweet, amazing Jon who was now tied to her forever because of one night they’d spent together. 

“I’m pregnant.”  Sansa could feel her voice cracking as she said the words, but it felt good to say them aloud.  She hated having secrets from Margaery. 

“That was the logical conclusion given the vomiting you’ve been hiding and the fact that you’ve been on the verge of tears more than I can remember for the last week or so.  Thing is, you and Harry split up months ago and I know you’re not stupid enough to go back to the cheating douchebag.  Not even for one night – don’t think I couldn’t hear you and that vibrator of yours after he left.  That man couldn’t get you off for shit.” 

Sansa laughed in spite of everything.  Margaery had always had a way with words. 

“It isn’t Harry’s.  Thankfully.”

“How far along are you?” Margaery asked. 

“Eight weeks.  Well, eight-and-a-half, technically, I guess”, Sansa replied, knowing what was coming next.  Margaery Tyrell was too perceptive for anyone’s good. 

“So I take it then that you didn’t actually fall asleep on Jon Snow’s sofa?”  Sansa shook her head, before burying her face in her hands and running her fingers through her hair. 

“How was he?”

“Marge!” Sansa exclaimed.  This was hardly the time or the place.  Though it was calming her somewhat to have Margaery be Margaery. 

Margaery simply shrugged.  “I’m not his type, but if I was then I would definitely be tapping that.  He looks like he would be good.”

“Yeah”, Sansa agreed, the word out of her mouth before she could stop herself.  “Oops.”

“Sansa, sweetie, you and Jon have already done an _oops_ ”, Margaery pointed out.  “What are you going to do?  You and Jon aren’t together.  You don’t owe him anything.”

“I know”, said Sansa defensively.  “He already knows about the baby.  I told him on Saturday.  We’re meeting again this weekend to discuss it further.  I wanted to give him some time to process things.  I – I told him that I’m keeping the baby.  Even before I took the test, I knew what I was going to do if it was positive.”

“Wow.  Sansa, you’re going to be a mother.  How crazy is that!” Margaery hugged her tightly, and Sansa was profoundly grateful for her friend’s constant positivity. 

“I haven’t told anyone other than Jon.  My parents expected me to settle down with someone successful, get married and _then_ have children.  How am I supposed to tell them that Jon and I conceived a child during a drunken one night stand?” 

Sansa knew Bran and Rickon would say very little about it, save their congratulations, and that Arya would be excited that she’d defied convention for once.  But she was worried about how her parents would react.  And Robb.  Jon was his _best friend_. 

“Well, I wouldn’t put it in quite those terms”, Margaery laughed. 

“Otherwise, just be prepared and be honest.  And take Jon with you.  He should have to deal with them as much as you do.  You’re also going to need to protect Jon from your brother.  Robb is the over-protective type.  I heard him threaten Harry more than once about how he treated you.”

“Really?”  Sansa hadn’t known that.  Robb had called Harry the scum of the earth when they’d broken up and she’d explained why, but she hadn’t realised they were anything but friendly before. 

“Sweetie, I want you to know that I’m here for you.  Whatever you need, whenever you need it.  Unless it’s cleaning up vomit.  I don’t do that.”  Sansa smiled. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to do that for me.  I should get used to it anyway, shouldn’t I?” 

**********

Sansa walked calmly into Hobb’s on Saturday at lunchtime, secure in Margaery’s support.  Over the last four days, Margaery had spent numerous hours online checking information and giving Sansa handy little pregnancy tips she came across.  

Sansa could only hope everyone else in her life would be as understanding and supportive as Margaery was.

She was early – as she knew she would be – and fidgeted nervously as she pretended to scan the menu while awaiting Jon’s arrival.  He had seemed calm enough when she’d told him the previous weekend, but that didn’t guarantee he would still feel the same today. 

Although she felt it went against Jon’s nature, there was still a chance that he might have changed his mind; that he might turn his back on the two of them. 

It was unlikely given what she knew of Jon, but it was a possibility.

Sansa looked at her watch for perhaps the seventh time and noted it was twelve thirty, and she still had half an hour to go until the time they’d arranged to meet.  The waitress, a kindly looking girl who looked to be around her brother Rickon’s age, came over and asked if she wanted anything to drink while she was waiting.  Sansa nodded, and ordered a mineral water with ice. 

She was still getting used to being pregnant and to the new ways in which her stomach reacted to foods she’d previously enjoyed.  She had been a little queasy that morning, and wanted something plain to eat and drink to avoid any need to visit the bathroom and see her lunch in reverse. 

A little before one, when Sansa had just decided on a plain chicken salad, she looked up to see Jon standing in front of her.  He was wearing his usual black jeans and shirt, and had his hands in his pockets. 

She could see that he looked nervous and smiled at him, hoping he would see it as a reassurance. 

“Jon.”  She wanted to get up and hug him, but figured this wasn’t really the time or the place and simply gestured to the seat opposite her. 

Sansa took a sip of her mineral water while Jon sat down, and placed his phone on the table next to him.  Before she could speak any further, the waitress was back to take Jon’s order. 

“Fresh orange and lemonade, please”, Jon told her.  He picked up the menu, and fidgeted with it as Sansa knew she had been doing for the last half hour or so. 

Jon raised his eyes to speak to her.  “How have you been?  I mean, are you – damn, I’m really, really bad at this.”

“I’m feeling fine.  Mostly”, Sansa told him.  “A bit queasy in the mornings but I’ve learned that the plainer the food, the more likely it is to stay down.  I’ve been falling asleep earlier than usual at night, but all that really means is I watch less late night rubbish on TV.”

“Good.  I – you must let me know if there’s anything I can do.  It’s a bit of a stereotype, but if you want ice cream or whatever in the middle of the night then just let me know.  I can do home deliveries.” 

Sansa chuckled lightly at Jon’s attempt to inject some humour, but she was touched.  Neither Joffrey nor Harry would be treating her as well if they were in Jon’s place.

The waitress came back with Jon’s drink, and asked if they were ready to order.  Sansa looked at Jon, who immediately said he’d just have a chicken and mayo sub with fries, and Sansa ordered the chicken salad plain. 

“No dressing, please”, she insisted.  The waitress probably thought she was on some sort of diet, but Sansa wasn’t too bothered.  Her priorities when ordering food had changed over the last couple of weeks. 

“How is work?” Jon asked her.  “It hasn’t been too much for you, or anything?”

Jon was redefining the word supportive right now, and Sansa had to push away the silly tears it was causing. 

“No, it’s been fine.  I haven’t taken on any extra-curricular stuff, just concentrated on my classes and their coursework.  I’ve even reduced the volume of homework to cut down my marking time.  It’s made me one of the more popular teachers in school.”

Instead, Sansa had them all working on a long-term project that took up little time each night compared to the essays she’d had them doing previously.  She’d even staggered the project deadlines so she wouldn’t need to mark them all at once.

“Margaery’s been great at home, too.  She won’t let me make dinner or tidy up after, and she refuses to let me do anything more than light cleaning.  I hadn’t intended to tell her, but I had a touch of morning sickness and I think she knew what was going on without me telling her.  Margaery’s smart like that”, she shrugged. 

Sansa was glad Margaery knew, though.  It saved her the added exhaustion of having to hide it from someone else. 

She’d bailed out of Sunday dinner at her parents’ house the last couple of weeks because she was worried they would figure out something was up if she avoided certain foods or, gods forbid, actually threw up after the meal. 

Or worse, her mother – the most perceptive woman she knew aside from Margaery and her grandmother, Olenna – would simply look at her and know.

Jon grabbed her hand across the table, and thumbed soothing circles on her palm in a way that made Sansa want to whine loudly. 

“Sansa, I know neither of us ever planned to become parents this way.  I know it isn’t an ideal situation, and that there are so, so many things we’ll need to work out.  From how we balance our work and home lives to how our parenting styles blend.  But I want you to know that I will be there every step of the way.”

“Thank you”, said Sansa quietly, feeling the prick of tears in the corner of her eyes.

“I mean it.  Appointments with the OBGYN and going shopping for things for the baby; parents’ evening at school and deciding when he or she is old enough to date; paying for school trips and braces.  I want to take care of this child – of both of you.  I don’t ever want you to worry about anything I can help you with.  Both of us made this child, and both of us are going to raise and provide for him or her.” 

Jon nodded, and Sansa had never wanted him more in her life.  Not even when they’d conceived their child.  She wasn’t quite sure what she had done to deserve this man that wasn’t really hers. 

And she’d need to remember that.  Jon wasn’t hers.  They were working together for their child, but he wasn’t hers any more than she was his. 

“Thank you, Jon”, Sansa repeated.  She removed her hand from his and pulled a packet of tissues from her purse. 

“Sorry.  I seem to be more emotional than usual at the moment.  I don’t even think its pregnancy hormones or anything.  More like I’m overwhelmed by everything that’s happening and everything that’s changing.  Just the little things.”

Little things like having to shift from regular coffee to decaf, and turning down offers to go out for a few cocktails or wine after work on a Friday. 

That wasn’t her life anymore. 

The waitress brought over their food, and Sansa was able to compose herself as she worked her way through the salad she’d ordered.  She’d never honestly considered the possibility that Jon would shirk the responsibilities of parenthood.  That simply wasn’t in the man she’d known for most of her life. 

But her past experience with men – men she knew to be the antithesis of Jon Snow – had made her cautious.  Sometimes overly so. 

“Have you told anyone?” Sansa asked when they were almost finished eating.  After all, she’d told Margaery without a thought, and she pointed that out to him. 

Jon shook his head. 

“When Sam told me about Gilly being pregnant with Aemon, he apologised for not telling me sooner and said it was considered unlucky to tell everyone before the baby got to twelve weeks”, he shrugged. 

“And I didn’t think it was right for me to tell someone you don’t know very well without telling you first.  I’m not equating that with Margaery – I’m pleased she knows, because it means she won’t expect you to be busy when you should be resting as much as possible.  And I was hardly going to tell Robb without you there to act as a shield for me.”

Sansa snorted.  “Robb will get over it.  He has to – you’re the father of his first niece or nephew.  And he knows you’ll look after me and the baby.”

“If I’m still alive by the time the baby is born.  Robb can be scarily over-protective when he wants to be.  With you, anyway.  Arya’s been practicing mixed martial arts since she was a child.  I think he figures she can handle herself”, said Jon. 

Sansa smiled at his mention of Arya, but she worried about Robb.  As much as she knew her brother would get over it eventually, she hoped it wouldn’t affect their friendship too much. 

Robb had the Stark stubbornness as much as she did. 

“I think we should tell him first”, Sansa decided.  She moved the tomatoes to the side of her plate, feeling her stomach clench at the thought of eating them.

“I have my twelve week scan four weeks on Wednesday.  After it, we should both tell him together.  And I will remind my brother that it takes more than one person to conceive a child.  Then, the next Sunday dinner after………will you come to my parents’ house and tell them with me?”

She was worried about what they would say, and how they would react.  Both to her pregnancy and to Jon being her child’s father. 

They didn’t know the full story of Joffrey’s beatings and Harry’s infidelity.  Of the family, only Robb and Arya did. 

They wouldn’t realise just how much value she placed on Jon’s simple kindness. 

“Of course”, said Jon.  As good as he was sometimes at hiding how he felt, she could sense his nervousness in telling her parents as well as Robb. 

It was one thing for them – particularly her father – to value Jon as a good friend to Robb; it was quite another for them to value him as the father of their single daughter’s child. 

“Right.  Well.  Good”, said Sansa awkwardly. 

Sometimes she had to remind herself that this was _Jon Snow_.  The boy who had watched cartoons with her on a Saturday morning when he’d stayed over the night before and woken up while Robb snoozed on.  He’d been eight and she’d been six. 

And now they were having a child together. 

They decided against ordering dessert, and Sansa told Jon she would probably head straight home.  She had some online shopping to do for her Aunt Lysa’s birthday, and liked the idea of spending the afternoon curled up on the sofa watching Netflix once she’d picked out Lysa’s gift. 

Jon paid the bill against her protests that she had invited him out for lunch, and should at least pay half. 

“Is this how things are going to be for the next eighteen years?  You overruling me?” Sansa asked teasingly as they exited the restaurant.  Jon snorted. 

“Actually, I figure it’ll be you getting your way most of the time.  But I meant what I said about looking after both of you.  I was – Sansa, my father died before I was born.  I want to look after you and our child the way I like to think he would have looked after my mother and I”, Jon sighed.  Sansa nodded quietly. 

“I want you to call me whenever you need anything.  Even if it’s just someone to talk to.  I don’t care what time of day or night it is.  I’m going to text you my work number, and when I see my assistant on Monday, I’ll tell her that any calls from you are to be passed through without question.  Even if I’m in a meeting.  Okay?” 

“Thank you.”  She grabbed his hand tightly.  “I mean it, Jon.  Thank you.”

“Do you have your car, or do you need a ride back to your apartment?”  Sansa smiled, and told him she had her car. 

She watched as he walked off to his, and wondered yet again just what she had done to deserve Jon Snow. 

**********

Margaery was waiting for Sansa to return, desperate for details, and practically jumped on her the moment she entered the apartment.  Sansa poured some coffee – regular for Marge and decaf for herself – before sitting down on the sofa.

“Well?  The suspense is killing me, Stark”, Margaery jested.  “Do I need to sort out your baby daddy for you?”

“Erm, no”, Sansa replied. 

“That good?”

Sansa nodded.  “I just – I know I shouldn’t compare him to _them_ , but I’m pretty sure Joffrey and Harry would at the very least have strongly suggested an abortion by now.  And neither of them would be a millionth as supportive as Jon is being.  Seriously.  And I don’t deserve it.”

Sansa almost whispered that last part, and Margaery gave her a quizzical look.

“Sans, why wouldn’t you deserve his support?  Jon is just as responsible for making this baby as you are.  You were both there.  You both neglected to use contraception.  He should have to give up his carefree single life just as much as you”, she insisted. 

“I don’t remember everything about that night”, Sansa chuckled through the tears that were threatening to fall yet again. 

“I remember it was good.  Like, mind-blowing good.  I’m not the type to kiss and tell, but gods what that man can do with his mouth.  I kissed him first.  I was the one who made the first move.  Jon is – he’s been Robb’s best friend since they were five years old.  I’ve known him for more than two decades.  He isn’t the kind of guy who makes a move on his best friend’s sister.  He’s good.  Almost too good.”

“Did he push you away?”  Sansa shook her head.  “Did he at any point tell you _no_?  Did he at any point stop what he was doing with his mouth?”    

“No, but – “

“No buts, Sansa.  Jon didn’t tell you to stop.  He went to your bed – or let you take him to his, rather – willingly.  There was no coercion involved.  That makes him just as responsible for your child’s conception as you, regardless of who made the first move.  Understood?” 

Sansa smiled.  Margaery was always fiercely biased in favour of those close to her. 

“Okay”, she nodded.  It only made her feel a little better, but Margaery was so insistent that Sansa preferred not to argue with her best friend. 

“So, you’ve been holding out on me”, Margaery grinned wickedly.  “What exactly can the quiet, brooding Jon Snow do with his mouth?”

“I’m not telling”, Sansa said primly.  She took a sip of her decaf and regretted letting that small detail slip.  She remembered that part vividly and didn’t want to share it with anyone. 

The way Jon had almost worshipped her, and how slick and wet he’d made her.  No man had ever gone out of their way to make Sansa feel as good during sex as Jon Snow had. 

“Spoilsport”, sighed Margaery.  She got up, and went to the kitchen to get herself an apple. 

While she was up, Sansa heard her phone ping and Jon’s name flashed across the screen.  Sansa opened the message to see a series of numbers. 

_This is my office direct dial.  My assistant is called Alys, and I’ll tell her first thing on Monday that she’s to pass through any calls from you without question.  If I’m already on a call, I’ll ask her to send me a notification on our internal messenger system so I can finish the call and speak to you.  I meant what I said.  Any time, day or night.  Even if you just want some pizza delivered.  I’ll speak to you soon.  Take care.  Jon.  PS – I forgot to ask the exact date and time of the twelve week scan.  Text it to me so I can put it in my diary._

“Wow”, Sansa murmured.  She handed her phone to Margaery, and showed her the message Jon had sent.

“Can we clone this man?” Margaery asked.  Sansa laughed. 

“I’m serious!  You weren’t kidding when you said he was being supportive.  I’ve known husbands who weren’t as good to their pregnant wives as Jon is being to you.  Are you sure there’s nothing more than a mutual child between you?”

“I’m sure”, said Sansa, trying to keep the slight disappointment she felt out of her voice. 

“Jon and I – it was one night.  He was sad and he needed someone to comfort him.  And I sort of took advantage of that because I’ve always had a bit of a thing for him.  I know, I know – he didn’t turn me down.  He didn’t stop me.  But that doesn’t mean he wanted anything more from me than the one night we had.  I can’t make things awkward between us.”

“I understand.”  Though her body language said Margaery did anything but. 

“I mean it, Marge.  We’re going to raise a child together.  We need to work together as a team, and I can’t have it be awkward between us.  Please.”

Margaery raised her hands.  “I won’t say anything else.”

“Thanks.  Gods, it’ll be hard enough telling Robb and my parents without dealing with any other complications.  Jon is worried Robb will have a hissy fit.”

“You are, technically speaking, stealing his best friend.  Sort of.”  Sansa snorted. 

Somehow, she didn’t think Robb would quite see it that way.  Sansa took her phone back from Margaery, and saved Jon’s work number in her contacts list.  She also committed the name _Alys_ to memory.


	4. Four - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon goes to Sansa's first scan and then helps her break the news to Robb.

When Jon walked into work on the Monday after his lunch with Sansa, the first thing he did was call his assistant into his office. 

Jon trusted Alys Karstark implicitly.  She had been his assistant ever since he’d started at Mormont and Associates.  Alys had been a year ahead of Jon and Robb at Wintertown High, and he knew her a little before they worked together. 

She’d joined the firm after graduating from White Harbour and been assigned to Jon on his first day. 

Most importantly for Jon, Alys Karstark was not a gossip.  He knew that whatever he told her would remain between the two of them and not do the rounds in the office. 

While he didn’t yet mention the appointment with Doc. Luwin for Sansa’s twelve week scan – he didn’t want to arouse Alys’s suspicions – he did say that he wanted to know if she called. 

“I mean it, Alys.  I don’t care if I’m in meetings or on a call already.  I need to know if Sansa wants to speak to me.  She’s……there’s stuff and it’s complicated and I told her she could call me whenever, even if it was just to talk to someone.  And I need you to not tell anyone.  Not _anyone_ , Alys.”

_In other words, should you run into Robb at the grocery store, gym or cinema, I need you to keep your mouth shut_.

“Okay”, she nodded. 

They turned to Jon’s schedule for the week and tried to figure out the work he needed to do before various meetings with clients and with Mormont himself.  Half an hour later, Alys left Jon to prepare notes for a meeting relating to one of his pro-bono cases. 

While there was a dedicated Pro-Bono Unit, every lawyer working for the firm was required to spend at least ten hours per month working on such cases.  For Jon, this currently involved working with Hornwood Shelter. 

It was a women’s shelter for those who had suffered domestic abuse and was run by a survivor, Donella Hornwood.  Jon knew his mother had helped such women in her job as a district nurse, and he liked to think of himself as carrying on where she had left off. 

**********

In the four weeks that followed, Jon kept in touch with Sansa almost daily.  It was strange given that they’d barely spent time alone together before now.  Nevertheless, barely a day went by without Jon texting or calling Sansa to see how she was. 

He dropped off several boxes of water biscuits at her apartment when he read online that they were good for expectant mothers experiencing morning sickness.  He sent her silly memes Grenn had emailed him that he thought would put a smile on her face. 

He even went to her favourite fast food outlet for her one night when she had a craving for a cheeseburger at eleven thirty.  Aside from that, they met for coffee after work or for dinner or lunch two, sometimes three times a week. 

**********

On the Wednesday of Sansa’s twelve week scan, Jon found himself stuck in the staff meeting from hell. 

He’d told Mormont at least three times that he had a medical appointment at four, and would likely have to leave early.  Jon hated doing that given Mormont was currently reviewing his application for the Assistant Head post going in the Pro-Bono Unit – a post Jon was desperate to land. 

He still hadn’t told anyone at the office about Sansa’s pregnancy.  As far as Alys and Mormont were concerned, Jon had a dental appointment to get to.  He figured both of them would need to know at some point, but that wasn’t any time in the near future. 

Jon wanted Sansa’s family to get used to everything before he dropped the revelation on his boss and assistant. 

Jon listened to Marsh and Thorne whine repeatedly about office complaints procedures and staffing levels while Mormont tried to appease the two of them.  Jon wasn’t sure which of them was worse. 

He supposed Thorne – Marsh was just a bit of a worried old man, while Thorne had a tendency to be as mean and obstructionist as all seven hells. 

He’d deliberately taken a seat at the back so he could leave without everyone noticing and commenting on it.  Jon had his excuse ready; a dull ache that had been bothering him for a while that he wanted to get treated before he required root canal or something equally hideous. 

Jon caught Mormont’s eye, gestured to the door, and nodded.  He had already asked his friend Grenn to fill him in on the part of the meeting he would miss. 

When he left the meeting room, Jon’s eye caught his watch and he realised the clock on the wall had been running slow.  He had fifteen minutes less than he’d anticipated to make it to Doc. Luwin’s office for Sansa’s appointment. 

Jon ran to the parking lot and fired up his car as fast as he could.  He’d been sincere when he told Sansa how involved he wanted to be, both in her pregnancy and in raising their child, and he didn’t want to start on bad terms by being late for their very first appointment. 

Doc. Luwin’s office was downtown, and Jon bit his nails every time he got caught in the post-school traffic.  He _had_ to make this appointment.  Jon’s luck changed when he managed to grab a parking space opposite the front door, but he was out of breath by the time he made it up to the third floor. 

It seemed, however, that Jon was not the only person running late.  It was a few minutes before four and Sansa was sitting in the waiting area underneath a sign that gave the waiting time as plus ten. 

Jon went straight over to her and apologised.

“Sorry – I couldn’t get out of the meeting any earlier and traffic was hell”, he wheezed. 

“Don’t worry.  Doc. Luwin’s running a bit late too.  Sit down.”  She patted the seat next to her, and Jon sat down.  He could see that she was a little nervous and took her hand in his. 

“Hey, it’ll be alright.  And I’ll be there with you.”  Sansa nodded. 

He hoped she hadn’t thought his lateness meant that he’d changed his mind about being involved.  Jon was as responsible as Sansa in creating this child, and he would be as responsible as Sansa in raising their son or daughter. 

“I’m sorry I was late – I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Jon, you got here before the appointment time.  Stop worrying.”  She smiled at him. 

“How was work?” he asked. 

“Not bad.  Brienne’s talking about organizing some field trips over the next few months to visit some battle sites.  She wants to commemorate the anniversaries of some of the Conquest battles and that of the Battle of Oxcross.  We have a meeting scheduled in three weeks to discuss it, and Brienne says she needs us to come up with ideas for which places to visit before then.” 

Sansa fidgeted.  He knew she hadn’t told anyone at work about her pregnancy yet.  Not even her immediate superior, Brienne, a woman Jon knew Sansa was close to. 

“You’ll need to tell her at some point.  My guess is that she’ll be able to figure things out in a few weeks anyway.”

“I know.  I just – I hate the idea of people treating me differently at work simply because I’m pregnant.  As if it takes away my ability to do my job, I guess.”  Jon understood what she meant. 

When Mormont’s niece and assistant Alysanne had been pregnant, everyone had rushed to cover work for her.  Alysanne had bellowed for all to hear that Mormont women were capable of doing whatever was needed, thank you very much. 

“Sansa Stark?” A nurse called out Sansa’s name.  Jon smiled at her and went to follow the nurse. 

He thought keeping hold of her hand was perhaps too much, and so settled for placing a hand on the small of her back and hoping it acted as some sort of reassurance. 

Jon followed Sansa and the nurse into a brightly coloured office with diagrams of human anatomy on the walls.  He found it a little disconcerting and turned his attention to a kindly looking older man sat behind the desk. 

“Sansa Stark”, said the nurse as she handed a file over to the man Jon took to be Doc. Luwin.  He nodded back at the nurse, and then turned to Sansa. 

She introduced him to the doctor as the baby’s father but said no more. 

“And we have reached the magical twelve week milestone”, Luwin smiled.  “How have you been?”

“Not too bad.  I’m still feeling a bit sick in the mornings, but nowhere near as bad as I was a few weeks ago”, Sansa told him.  “I do get tired quite easily.  I’ve got into the habit of going for an after-work nap some days.”

Jon took note of that, and made a mental reminder to ask Sansa if there was anything he could do to help her out further.  Even if it was as trivial as picking up her groceries. 

“That’ll pass.  Another few weeks and you’ll rediscover your energy levels.  The sickness should start to fade then as well.  There’s been no bleeding?”  Sansa shook her head, and Jon shuffled in his chair. 

He felt a little uncomfortable, but he reminded himself that he’d seen enough of Sansa to get her pregnant.  A little mention of blood wasn’t too much. 

“In that case, let us get started with the main reason you’re here.” Luwin stood up and gestured to an examination bed behind them. 

While Doc. Luwin and Sansa had been talking, the nurse had been setting up the ultrasound machine for them.  “If I could ask you to pop up on the bed.”

Sansa removed her coat, and left it on the chair with her bag.  Jon watched, feeling a little like a spare accessory as she jumped up on the examination bed and obediently lifted her shirt. 

He got a little uncomfortable again as he saw Sansa’s bare belly.  Flashes of open mouthed kisses down it passed through his mind, and Jon berated himself internally for thinking such things. 

“Wow!” Sansa squealed as the nurse placed some jelly on her exposed belly.  “That’s cold!”

“You’ll get used to it”, the nurse reassured her.  She then gestured kindly for Jon to come round the other side of the bed. 

He saw a chair there and sat down, grabbing Sansa’s hand as he did.  She looked at him and bit her lip nervously.  Jon squeezed her hand, and nodded towards the monitor. 

Jon watched the screen and tried to make sense of it all until a small shape appeared.  His heart skipped a beat as Doc. Luwin and the nurse both pointed out his child.  Their child. 

“ _Wow_ ”, he breathed. 

No matter how many times he and Sansa had discussed this baby, it was looking at the screen and seeing the small outline of him or her that brought home to him the enormity of it all.  That and the echoes of the baby’s heartbeat. 

Jon squeezed Sansa’s hand again and then smiled up at her.  Their eyes met, and Jon was filled with so much feeling and emotion for Sansa and for their child that he couldn’t quite take it all in. 

The rest of the appointment was a bit of a blur, as Doc. Luwin prescribed some pregnancy vitamins, gave them some pamphlets, and told Sansa to come back in eight weeks for her second scan. 

“Would you like a copy of the sonogram?” the nurse asked when they were getting ready to leave. 

“Can we have two?” Sansa asked. 

Jon rubbed the small of her back, hoping it conveyed how touched he was that she would make sure they _both_ had a record of their child’s first photograph.

When they’d booked in the next appointment – which Jon took a careful note of to add it into his schedule at work the following day – they went down to Jon’s car.  Wintertown High was only a couple of blocks away, and Sansa had felt like a walk to their appointment.  She had been cooped up all day and wanted some fresh air, so Jon was to drive her to the school to pick up her car. 

“Can you believe this?” Sansa said in wonder as she held the sonogram in her hand.  “This is a baby.  Our baby.  It just – wow.  It is a little overwhelming, don’t you think?”

“Just a little”, Jon agreed. 

He liked the way she said _our_ baby.  This child was part of both of them.

“Thank you for coming.  I know I said that before.  It makes it feel like I’m going through this with someone rather than on my own.”  Jon nodded.  He never, ever wanted her to feel alone in this. 

It didn’t take long for them to pick up Sansa’s car and drive to Jon’s apartment.  Robb was officially moved out now but Jon had invited him over for a few beers so they could tell him about the baby. 

Jon was dreading it, but had decided to approach it like a band-aid and just tear it off.  He was sure Robb was going to rip him a new one for it, but he figured that in the end Robb would have to come around.  This child was going to be his niece or nephew. 

“Nervous?” Sansa asked when Robb texted to say he was almost there.  Jon nodded.

“Don’t be.  What can he do?  Take us back in time and stop our child’s conception?”

Jon snorted at that.  If Robb had the option, he figured he probably would. 

Jon took a beer out of the fridge and started to down it.  “Dutch courage.”

“Not fair”, Sansa pouted.  “I can’t have any.”

“You don’t need it.  _If_ he’s angry, it’ll be at me.  Never you.”  _If_.  There was no _if_ , Jon mused. 

“This is something else we’re in together”, Sansa told him.  They were sitting opposite each other at the kitchen table, and she patted his hand comfortingly. 

Before Jon could thank her for the support, he heard Robb’s keys rattle in the door.  Although Robb was now living with Jeyne, Jon had told him to keep the keys in case of an emergency. 

Or Jeyne deciding one day that she’d cleaned up one smelly sock too many. 

“Hey.  Sans – what are you doing here?” said Robb as he closed the door behind him.  “Are you having beers with us?”

“I’m not drinking tonight”, Sansa told him.  Robb shrugged, but looked puzzled nonetheless. 

As he joined them at the kitchen table, Jon started to wonder whether or not he should give Robb a beer first.  Would alcohol help or hinder the situation? 

Jon felt his panic grow as he realized he and Sansa had never actually decided how to break the news to Robb; they’d only decided to tell him first.  Well, first after Margaery. 

Jon glanced at Sansa.  The panic he felt must have been evident on his face, as she gripped his leg comfortingly under the table.  Jon shifted a little in his seat.  That hadn’t been the best idea on her part. 

“What’s going on?” Robb asked.  He looked between the two of them.  “Seriously.  Is there something wrong?  The two of you aren’t exactly best friends.”

“We’re friends”, Sansa told her brother.  Jon thought she sounded a bit defensive, and realized she was probably as nervous about this as he was. 

“Okay, okay.” Robb raised his hands in surrender.  “Whatever it is – Sans.  Please?”

The apartment was so still, Jon could hear Sansa take a deep breath in.  “I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” Robb repeated.  He had a smile on his face, as if he thought Sansa was joking around.  “But how can you be pregnant?  You and Harry split up months ago and you haven’t seen anyone since.”

“You don’t need to be in a relationship with someone to make a baby, Robb.”  Sansa sighed, and glanced at Jon.  “Sometimes it only takes the once.”

Sansa shrugged and gave Jon a pointed stare.  It was time for him to walk the walk and take real responsibility for his child as he had promised Sansa he would.  They had decided to tell Robb together, and that was what they needed to do. 

“What Sansa means – it isn’t just her that’s pregnant.  I mean, it is just her, obviously, but…….see, the thing is.  Fuck it.  I’m the baby’s father.”

“You?” Robb blinked.  “But – how? When?  Seriously?”

“Seriously”, said Jon.  He reached into his pocket and took out his wallet.  He opened it up and handed the sonogram picture to Robb. 

“We went for the first scan today.  She’s twelve weeks, and that – that’s when they do them.”

Jon cringed at his lack of talent with words but felt stronger knowing Sansa was right there with him.  If they could get through this, telling Robb, maybe it would make it easier when they told her parents. 

“Twelve weeks?”  Jon watched as Robb did some mental arithmetic and reached the weekend his return home had been delayed.  He winced as he saw Robb figure it out. 

“You took advantage of my sister when she was plastered?  I saw the state of your hangover the day I came back from visiting Jeyne’s family.  The two of you must have drunk enough to sink a ship!”

“I didn’t take advantage of her”, said Jon hotly. 

He neglected to mention that he still couldn’t remember a whole lot of it, but what he did recall told him that Sansa had wanted that night as much as he did.  She’d said as much at the time, he knew. 

Although Jon couldn’t for the life of him remember which one of them had made the first move – probably him, egged on by the wine – neither of them had stopped the other.

“He didn’t, Robb.  Jon isn’t like that.  You know he isn’t.  You’ve known him almost your entire life”, Sansa told her brother brutally.  “If anything, I’m the one who turned up here with wine and whiskey – alcohol you told me to bring!”

“Don’t throw this back at me”, Robb all but yelled.  “I told you to get Jon drunk and put him to bed!  I didn’t mean for you to join him!”

“Robb, please.  Can – can we sit down and talk about this like adults?” Jon asked. 

He could see Sansa starting to cry out of the corner of his eye and was mad at himself for not handling this better.  Perhaps he should have told Robb on his own rather than put Sansa through this. 

“Fine”, Robb huffed.  He crossed his arms and looked in Jon’s eyes like a petulant child who had lost a toy. 

“We’ll talk like adults.  What is the first rule of casual sex?  Contraception.  Clearly neither of you was acting like an adult _there_.”

“Are you telling me that you’ve never had unprotected sex?” Sansa countered.  “That you’ve never once made a mistake?  I’m sorry that I’m not perfect.  I’m sorry that Jon isn’t either.  I’m sorry that we’re _human_.”

“What I have or haven’t done in the past isn’t the issue here”, Robb said in a matter-of-fact tone.  

The way he was taking the moral high ground here told Jon that Robb had skipped over the wearing a condom section of sex at least once.  Although part of him wanted to call Robb out on that, he knew it wouldn’t make the situation any better. 

If anything it would make it worse.

“Robb, what is your problem?” Sansa asked him.  Jon kept a tight hold of her.  He could sense more tears coming. 

“Do you not think Jon is a good man?  Do you not think he’ll make a good father?  He wants to help me raise our child.  He isn’t abandoning me when he could have.”

“He knocked you up and you defend him?!”  That crossed a line for Jon.  Robb had been his best friend since he was five years old, but Sansa was the mother of his unborn child. 

If he had to pick between the two Starks, there was only one answer. 

“Please calm down”, sighed Jon.  “Stress isn’t good for Sansa or the baby.  Yes, she is pregnant.  Yes, I am the baby’s father.  Yes, the circumstances are far from ideal – but we are _both_ going to do our best to make this work.”

“I trusted you”, said Robb quietly.  Jon nodded. 

“I know.  And I know you think I violated that trust”, Jon told him.

“This is just mental”, chuckled Robb darkly.  “I told you what she’d been through with Joffrey and Harry.  I told you that I wanted her to find someone and be happy with him.  And you knocked her up.”

Jon didn’t quite know what to say to that.  “Maybe – maybe we should talk about this another time.  When you’ve had a chance to think about things.”

“Oh, we’ll be talking about this again.  Do our parents know?”

“We’re telling them on Sunday”, said Sansa quietly.  She brushed away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks.

“I’m twelve weeks now, so we’ve passed the danger stage.  And I mean it when I say _we’re_ telling them.  Jon is coming with me, and he’ll be involved every step of the way from now on.  He came with me to the scan today, and he’s going to come to all my appointments.  Our parents have always liked Jon.”

“Yeah, when he was a mate I brought round.  Will it still be the same when he becomes the guy who knocked up their baby girl in a one night stand?!”

Sansa looked as if she’d been slapped across the face by Robb’s remark, and Jon felt a deep sense of shame and worry in the pit of his stomach as Robb voiced the very fears he’d held since the moment Sansa had told him she was pregnant. 

The thing was, in spite of it all, Jon couldn’t find it in him to regret sleeping with Sansa.  He couldn’t find it in him to regret conceiving their child. 

He hadn’t planned on this any more than she had, but it had happened and they would deal with it.  With – or, more likely, without – Robb’s support.

“Robb, I think you should go mate”, said Jon.  He could sense Sansa was getting more and more upset and he just wanted this to end. 

She’d been so happy just a couple of hours before when the nurse had pointed out the small piece of them growing inside her. 

“I’m not your mate”, Robb growled, before landing a very accurate punch on Jon’s nose. 

“What the hell?!” Sansa exclaimed.  Jon felt as if his nose had been pushed back into his head.  He could see Sansa rooting through her bag for something – probably a tissue – and Robb rubbing the back of his knuckles. 

A moment later, he felt something being stuck up each of his nostrils. 

“What?” he was a little dazed. 

“Tampons.  I don’t need them at the moment, but I kept them in my bag out of habit.  They’re good for bloody noses.”  Jon tried to grin at Sansa’s attempted humour, and winced when he felt it throughout his nose. 

“Tilt your head back a little.”  Jon followed her advice, and tried to think about what they could have done differently. 

Ever since the day Sansa had turned up on his doorstep and announced her pregnancy, he had known Robb would be the most difficult person to tell.  He was close to both of them.  Perhaps too close. 

Ned and Catelyn would be difficult too.  Though hopefully Robb would be the last Stark to punch him in the nose. 


	5. Five - Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa tries to deal with Robb's reaction, before telling her parents about the baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We pick up right where we left off with Jon.....

Sansa grabbed an ice cube tray from the freezer and wrapped a clean dishcloth around the cubes, before gently placing it on Jon’s nose.  He winced, but said nothing, as Sansa wondered what in all seven hells had got into her big brother. 

She had always seen Robb as protective, but why couldn’t he have been like this over Joffrey or Harry?  Why did he have to take it out on Jon?

_Because the other two didn’t get you pregnant_ was the first thought that went through her mind.  _Because he feels guilty for not doing enough over Joffrey and Harry and is trying to make up for it_ was the second.

“Feel better about it now?” Sansa asked her brother.  Robb shrugged. 

“Jon isn’t the only one responsible here, Robb.  I made this baby too.  Are you going to punch my nose?”

“I would never hit you.”  Robb seemed offended at the suggestion, and sat down in the chair opposite Jon with his head in his hands. 

“Have you actually thought this thing through?  Where are you going to live?  Are you going to move back home, or expect Margaery to move out so you can use her bedroom for the baby?  Could you even afford to do that?”

Sansa stopped for a moment.  In the midst of everything, her living arrangements were one practicality she hadn’t yet considered.  She’d been too busy thinking about the changes in her mind and body. 

“I’m buying a place”, Jon spoke up.  He pushed the ice she still held off his face, and looked her in the eye. 

“I know we haven’t discussed it, but after Robb moved out I figured I’d use the money from my mother’s house to put a deposit on a place of my own.  I can afford it well enough.  I was going to get another apartment downtown or something, but after you told me about that baby I started to think it would be better to get a house.  With a garden.”

Sansa found herself touched by how seriously Jon was taking this and the changes he was prepared to make to his life for their child.  Why couldn’t she have found someone like Jon before now?

“Oh”, she said.  Was Jon asking her to move in with him?

“I could get a three-bed.  A room each for us, and one for the baby.  I told you before, I want to look after you both.”  Sansa nodded.  “You could both stay with me there for as long as you liked.  You wouldn’t need to worry about trying to find somewhere new or moving home.”

“I would like that”, said Sansa softly. 

“First you’re having a baby and now you’re shacking up together?” Robb sounded incredulous and, in a way, Sansa could understand why. 

As far as her brother was concerned, an hour ago she and Jon were friendly acquaintances – friends at most – and now they were having a child and making plans to live together.  Things were moving quickly. 

“I want to take care of them both”, Jon told Robb.  Robb snorted. 

“If you wanted to take care of Sansa, you wouldn’t have got her pregnant in a drunken fumble”, Robb retorted. 

“Enough!”  Sansa pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. 

“Robb, I conceived this child just as much as Jon did.  At no point did I tell him _no_.  At no point did I tell him to _stop_.  If I had, he would have done so because he is a good man.  You know that.  Deep down, you know that.  In the four weeks since I told him about the baby, he has been nothing but supportive to me.  He is rearranging his life and his plans to fit our child into it.  Does anything he has said indicate he is shirking his responsibilities?”

“That’s not the point”, Robb replied stubbornly. 

“Jon was right.  I think you should go”, Sansa told him.  Her brother looked over at her with a furrowed brow.  He wasn’t used to being ordered out of somewhere by her – not least his former home. 

“I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere today, and you need time to process what Jon and I have told you.  All I ask is that you refrain from telling anyone until Sunday when I tell our parents.”

“Fine.”  Robb looked hurt, but he left as she asked and agreed not to say anything. 

“That could have gone better”, said Jon when Robb had closed the front door behind him.  “I knew he wouldn’t take it well.”

Jon stood up, and removed the tampons from his nose.  It had stopped bleeding, but Sansa could already tell Jon would be left with a nasty looking bruise.  Sansa took the tampons from him and threw them in the bin. 

“He just needs some time to get used to the idea”, said Sansa, trying to feign confidence in that. 

Robb and Jon had been best friends since they were five years old and she hated that she had played a part in potentially ending that friendship.  Perhaps one of the family or Jeyne could speak to Robb and try to get him to see sense? 

“Well, you are only twelve weeks.  There is a long time before the baby actually arrives”, Jon replied. 

“You are too good for this world, Jon Snow.”  Jon snorted.  “You are.  My own brother plays the blame game over his first niece or nephew, and all you can think of is ways to help me out.  I meant what I said to Robb – you are turning your life upside down to accommodate us.  And it means a lot to me.”

Her voice cracked at the end, and Sansa succumbed to tears again.  Jon held her tightly, and then brushed them away when she’d finished. 

As he placed their delivery order with the local pizza company, Sansa wondered yet again what she had done to deserve someone as amazing as Jon.  The thing was – and she would have to remember it – Jon Snow wasn’t really hers.  Not truly. 

**********

Given Robb’s harsh words, Sansa was doubly nervous when she let Jon into her apartment late on Sunday morning.  Margaery, thankfully, had tactfully taken herself out for brunch with their mutual friends Mya and Myranda. 

He turned down her offer of coffee, and sat stiffly on her sofa.  Sansa realized he was as nervous as she was.  Perhaps more so. 

Sansa sat down opposite him.  “How are you feeling today?” he asked. 

“Not too bad”, Sansa replied.  He asked her this question on an almost daily basis, something some people would find irritating but Sansa instead found endearing. 

“I didn’t see my breakfast in reverse, so that’s always a plus.”

She placed a hand over her belly, almost protectively.  Sansa couldn’t recall when she’d started doing that; she hadn’t noticed until it had somehow unconsciously become habit. 

She could feel her body starting to change and had noted the beginnings of a swell around her middle.  It wasn’t much.  In fact, it was so little it was imperceptible to anyone who saw her clothed. 

But Sansa noted it all the same. 

“And you?” she asked.  “I see that bruise has gone.”

Jon grimaced.  “I was hoping it’d be gone for today.  At work I was able to get away with saying I walked into a door in the middle of the night without my glasses or contacts on, but I doubt your parents would have bought it.  Not when it becomes clear how Robb feels about what’s happening.”

“I’m sorry.” Sansa dropped her head slightly.  Jon moved over to sit next to her, and raised her chin. 

“Hey”, he began softly.  “What are you always saying about you being as responsible as I am?  It works both ways – I’m as responsible as you are.  You don’t need to apologise for Robb being the way he is.  It isn’t your doing any more than it is mine.”

“I see you brought pie.”  Sansa had been able to smell the lemons as soon as Jon walked into the apartment. 

“Figured it was the least I could do”, he shrugged.  Jon wrapped an arm around Sansa’s shoulder. 

“We’re going to get through this.  Aside from anything else, we don’t have a choice.  I doubt your parents will fail to notice your pregnancy.  And you’ll run out of excuses for the identity of the baby who looks just like you pretty quickly.”

Sansa bit her lip.  “You’ve thought about that?”  She had done so herself but hadn’t voiced it to Jon, who nodded. 

“A bit.  A little girl that has curly red hair, and keeps begging me to get her a dog.”  Jon laughed, and Sansa saw the truth in his words. 

She told him that she’d often thought of him playing football with a curly haired boy with his eyes. 

They took Sansa’s car to her parents’ house.  She’d called them on Friday and said she was bringing a friend – could an extra space be set?  Sansa had been clear that it was _not_ a boyfriend she was bringing. 

Her mother had said there was hardly a need for an extra place as Robb couldn’t come.  He had a prior engagement.  A birthday brunch for a friend of Jeyne’s that he’d forgotten about. 

Sansa had tried to sound surprised, but she knew Robb was hardly likely to turn up to support them. 

If her big brother and his best friend continued the way they were, Sansa knew she would soon need to try conspiring with Jeyne. 

When she pulled up in the driveway, Sansa turned to look at Jon and saw him staring straight ahead with a clenched jaw.  She placed a hand on his arm, and he looked at her. 

“Hey.  Look at the positives”, said Sansa, trying to sound more confident than she actually felt.  Jon raised an eyebrow. 

“For starters, Robb isn’t going to be here today.  Nor is Arya – she and Gendry aren’t coming up from White Harbour.  And Bran and Rickon are both away at college.”

“So I should be happy because instead of dealing with your three scary brothers, your even scarier sister and your father, I only need to deal with Ned?” Jon asked.  Sansa nodded.  

Her father had always liked Jon, and she told him so.  He made a noise as if to say it was different when he was just Robb’s friend.  That was true, but Sansa also knew that Jon was someone her father would trust with her. 

And he had never liked Joffrey or Harry.  Her father had been as subtle as he could about it, but Sansa knew nonetheless. 

“Come on.  My mother will get suspicious if we take too long”, Sansa sighed. 

She unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, noticing that her father was watching from the window.  Sansa forced a smile onto her face and waved at him.  She saw Jon do the same, lemon pie in hand, and told herself that everything would work out.  If for no other reason than it had to. 

Besides, she and Jon had a plan; one that hopefully showed Jon in the best possible light under the circumstances. 

Although her father had waved at them, it was her mother that opened the door.  Sansa found herself immediately enveloped in a massive hug and her mother’s admonishment that she hadn’t simply told them it was Jon she was bringing over as her guest. 

She half-shrugged as Jon handed the pie to her mother, and hoped that Catelyn Stark felt as positively towards Jon Snow when they left as she clearly did at this moment. 

Once she had hugged her father, the two of them went through to the family room with Jon while her mother put the pie away in the fridge.  Her father, knowing Sansa was driving, offered Jon a whiskey he accepted rapidly. 

Sansa had guessed Jon might need some liquid courage as he had when they’d told Robb, and suggested he walk over to her apartment so she could drive them to her parents’ house. 

Unlike when they told Robb, however, Sansa and Jon had actually discussed broaching the subject with her parents beyond the simple fact that they would do so.  Among other things, they had decided to get the telling over and done with before they ate. 

Sansa knew it would go better for them if they were upfront about her pregnancy.  She watched as her father poured whiskey for himself and Jon, and fruit juices for herself and her mother. 

Sansa swallowed, and accepted her drink with a smile. 

“Your apartment must seem so quiet now without Robb.  Are you going to stay on there or find somewhere else?” her father asked Jon. 

“I’m hoping to buy a house”, Jon replied.  “I was telling Sansa the other day, I’ve finally found a realtor.  I’ve scheduled a meeting with her for later this week to go through what I’m looking for and so on.”

Sansa forced a smile onto her face, and noted her mother’s observant glance when Jon mentioned her name.  She knew well enough her mother was wondering just when she and Jon had become friendly without Robb in the mix. 

“A house?” Sansa heard her mother say.  “That’s a bit of an undertaking on your own.”

“He won’t be on his own.”  As nervous as she was, and as much as she was dreading their reaction given Robb’s, Sansa felt this was the in she’d been looking for. 

“Renting out a room makes good financial sense”, her father nodded, speaking before Sansa could say anything more.  “It’ll help pay the mortgage.  Benjen did something similar when he bought his first place, remember Cat?”

“I do.” 

Sansa fidgeted and bit her lip before glancing at Jon.  His smile looked as shy and forced as she’d seen it.

“It isn’t about money”, said Sansa.  “Well, it sort of is.  But at the same time it isn’t.  Um, I’ll be moving into one of the other rooms in Jon’s house.  That’s part of the reason I brought him over.”

“ _Oh_.”  Her mother seemed surprised, and Sansa figured she’d be progressing to shock in a moment. 

“Jon offered – well, suggested, I guess – that I move into his new place with him after……..after I told him about the baby.”  Sansa looked down at her hands, and heard the audible intake of breath from her mother to her right. 

“The baby?”  Sansa looked up when her father spoke and nodded. 

If she was old enough to make a baby, she was old enough to deal with the consequences. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Her fingers shook as she opened her bag, and took out the sonogram picture.  She handed it to her mother, and saw Jon take his out of his wallet to show her father – wordless confirmation of his own impending fatherhood. 

“The nurse at Doc. Luwin’s gave us one each.  I’m thirteen weeks.”

“You seem to have planned this out”, said her mother tightly as she looked at the sonogram picture.  Sansa could tell Catelyn Stark was caught between excitement at the birth of her first grandchild and dismay over the circumstances. 

Sansa had, after all, made it clear on the phone that it wasn’t a _boyfriend_ she was bringing over to the house.

“I want you to know that I mean to do everything I can for Sansa and the baby”, Jon spoke up.  Sansa smiled at him. 

“I know that you would’ve wanted things to be different.  For her to be in a stable relationship that has a future.  But I promise I’ll look after them both.  Sansa and I have talked a lot since we found out, and we are both committed to doing the best for our child.”

Her father’s face gave nothing away as he handed the sonogram picture back to Jon. 

“I need to check on the potatoes”, said her mother.  She returned Sansa’s picture, and bolted out of the room. 

Sansa sighed sadly.  She wanted her mother to be on board with this; she was going to need her help every step of the way. 

“I should go and make sure she’s alright”, Sansa murmured as she stood.  Jon nodded supportively, and Sansa made her way through to the kitchen where her mother was standing over pots of vegetables as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. 

“I’m sorry.”

Her mother turned round to face her as Sansa leaned against the worktop. 

“Jon’s right.  This isn’t the way I wanted this to happen for you, Sansa.  You’re still so young, with your whole life ahead of you.  If you were married – or even engaged – it would be another thing entirely.  I’ve barely seen you and Jon spend any time together and now you’re having a child and moving in together?  I just want to make sure you’ve thought this through, that’s all.”

“Jon’s been very good to me.  He has taken more responsibility on than I ever expected of him.  Joffrey and I were together for two years, and Harry and I for around half that.  If I had told either of them I was carrying their child, they would have cut and run.  Or demand I have an abortion.” 

_As you are clearly asking me if I’ve considered doing._  

“Jon is upending his life for me and the baby.”

“Yes, all three of you will live together and how will you ever meet someone else?  I don’t understand how this is feasible in the long-term.  Someday, one or other of you will meet someone and this whole arrangement will come crashing down around you”, she sighed. 

“You should come here and stay with your father and I.  We’d be happy to have you both.”

“No”, Sansa replied stubbornly.  She had resolved to be an adult about this, and that was what she would do.  She wasn’t going to run home to her parents at the first sign of trouble. 

Living with Jon would have its complications but she wanted to at least try to make it work.  Besides, their child would always have a bedroom at Jon’s.  If anything went wrong and she changed her mind, he could always convert a third bedroom into a spare or study. 

“No”, she repeated.  “I won’t be moving home.  Jon and I have come to a decision together.  And we will stick to that.  He is a good man, and he’ll look after me.  After both of us.  We are going to need to work together.  Please.  I need you both to be on my side over this.”

Her mother nodded.  “I just want you to be sure.  You’re not even together.”

“We’re not”, Sansa confirmed as she busied herself setting the table for their meal. 

She hated the term _drunken one night stand_ , and this was as close as she would get to telling her mother that was what had happened between her and Jon. 

“This pregnancy may not have been intentional but I want to make the best of things.  We both do.”

It wasn’t until they were back in Sansa’s car, pulling out of the driveway, that she had an opportunity to ask Jon what her father had said to him.  She’d stayed in the kitchen with her mother until their meal was ready, trying to convince her that everything would work out. 

Sansa wasn’t quite sure how convincing she’d been, but it was a start.

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be”, Jon told her – confirming Sansa’s suspicions that her father may well be the easiest one of the family to deal with. 

Her father had once told her that he wanted her to find a good man; someone who was strong, gentle and brave and who would treat her well.  Jon fitted that description to a scary degree. 

“When we were all growing up, I remember him being the one all of us were scared to tell things to.  He’d have this quiet look of disappointment that was so much worse than him shouting at us for whatever we were confessing to”, said Sansa as she recalled the mess she’d made in the bathroom after trying to dye a summer dress because Arya had made fun of the colour. 

“But he respects honesty.”

“He said he knew I meant it – about looking after you and the baby, I mean.”  Although she was focused on the road, Sansa could see Jon’s fidgeting out of the corner of her eye. 

She could tell her father’s words had meant a great deal to Jon – particularly given Robb’s reaction, but also given the way her mother had left the room as quickly as possible. 

“At least someone will stick up for us, then.”  Sansa turned left onto the street where her apartment building was located. 

“He asked if Robb knew”, Jon admitted.  “I told him Robb wasn’t thrilled, but not about the punch.  I didn’t want to make things worse.  Telling him that his eldest son punched me would’ve felt a little like I was a child.”

“ _You told on me!_ ” Sansa mimicked the tone of voice Arya had always used whenever she complained to her mother that her younger sister had misbehaved or been mean towards her. 

Jon laughed.  Sansa turned off the car and turned to look at him. 

His smile was genuine, unguarded. 

“Wow, that’s scarily accurate”, he told her.  “Thanks.  That was a pretty tough day.  I needed that.  Before I forget, I booked us a table at Gage’s for Wednesday night.  That’s the day I have my appointment with the realtor.  We can go through some of the suggestions she makes and decide which ones we want to view.”

Sansa felt a twinge of guilt course through her.  She was impinging on Jon’s time more and more.  They had spent more time together over the last few weeks than they would normally have done in a year. 

“Jon, you should pick it out.  You’re the one buying it.”

“And you’ll be living in it”, he told her firmly.  “Besides, you’ll have more of a head than I will for practical things like whether the garden is child-friendly.  Or if it’s too far from school for you.”

Sansa unbuckled her seatbelt and nodded.  “Okay.” 

But this time she was paying for dinner.  Jon was treating her far too much. 

She locked the car and invited Jon in for a coffee before he headed home.  Jon smiled, but excused himself over some paperwork that needed done for the following morning. 

Sansa mentally kicked herself – hadn’t she just thought of how much of Jon’s free time she was taking up?  He hugged her tightly, and walked away. 

Sansa walked up to her apartment to find Margaery waiting in anticipation.  “How did it go?” she asked, before Sansa could even put her bag and keys down on the counter. 

“As good as it could have”, she assessed.  “We have my father’s support.  And my mother didn’t figure out Robb’s absence was down to him ignoring Jon’s existence at the moment.”

“Sit down and I’ll make you some mint tea”, Margaery told her. 

Sansa sat down obediently and put her feet up.  The trip to see her parents had been mentally exhausting, and she was glad now that Jon had decided against coming up for coffee. 

Sansa knew she had some preparation to do for her classes, but couldn’t quite summon up the energy required to get her laptop out and go through everything. 

Once her mother had got over the shock, and trying to make sure that Sansa was certain about her plans, they’d talked about how her pregnancy was proceeding.  Her mother had assured her the fatigue would pass, and Sansa couldn’t wait for that to happen. 

She was more than ready for the burst of energy she’d been told was coming.


	6. Six - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon discusses his impending fatherhood with Sam, and begins his search for a new home.

Jon parked his car outside Sam and Gilly’s house, and grabbed the DVD boxset he’d borrowed the last time he was over.  It had been a long time since he’d watched the original _Twin Peaks_ series, and Sam had bought it on a whim while shopping for Gilly’s birthday. 

He walked up the steps to their house and rang the doorbell. 

“Jon”, Sam said with a grin when he answered the door.  “Come inside.”

Jon walked past Sam, and saw Gilly coming down the stairs.  She held their younger son, Aemon, in her arms.  Given the time his godson would be in bed, but his younger brother had evidently yet to be settled for the night.  Aemon was four months old, and seemed to grow every time Jon saw him. 

“I was just changing him”, Gilly told Jon.  “We hadn’t seen you for a couple of weeks.  Sam was thinking you’d forgotten about us.”

“No.”  Jon hung his head in shame, even though he knew Gilly was only jesting. 

For the last few weeks he had thought of little but Sansa and his unborn child.  He couldn’t stay long now because he’d arranged to have dinner with her.  A pile of brochures filled with houses for sale sat on the passenger seat in his car, ready to show Sansa. 

“Why don’t we go through to the living room?” Sam suggested.  Jon nodded gratefully, and followed them through. 

He handed the DVD boxset to Sam.

“There was loads of stuff I’d forgotten.”  He fidgeted with his hands as he sat back down and wondered why he was so nervous.  Sam wasn’t the type to judge.  Nor was Gilly.  Jon had always liked that about her, from the first time Sam had introduced them. 

“Is everything alright?” Sam asked.  “You’re not going mad living alone now that Robb’s moved out?”

Jon shook his head.  “Even if I was, I won’t be living alone for long.  Besides, Robb isn’t speaking to me at the moment.  Hasn’t been for the past week, actually.  Not since – Sansa’s pregnant.  He wasn’t too happy about that.”

“But what’s that got to do with – _oh_.  Oh.  I didn’t even realize you two were seeing each other.”

“We’re not”, said Jon.  “You know what, you have enough on your plate.  New baby of your own and all.  I should – I should go.  I’m meeting Sansa soon for dinner anyway.  I need to talk to her about houses.”

He stood up and went to leave, but Gilly stopped him. 

“You should stay.”  She walked over to him and held out her young son. 

“Would you like to hold him?  Get some practice in while you and Sam talk?  I should go and sort out the washing.”

“Are you sure?” Jon asked tentatively.  He’d held Aemon a few times before, the first time being during the visit he’d made the day after Gilly had left the hospital.  But this felt different somehow. 

It felt a lot more real knowing that in a few months he would have a child of his own to care for and protect. 

“Of course.”  Jon sat back down again, and Gilly placed her son in his arms, reminding him to support Aemon’s head.  She smiled and left the room, leaving him and Sam to talk. 

Aemon gurgled happily as Jon looked up at his friend. 

“What happened?” Sam asked.  Jon sighed and looked down at the baby.  He shrugged. 

“A little less when a man and a woman love each other and a bit more when a man and a woman consume enough alcohol in a short space of time………now Sansa is pregnant and both of us want to keep the baby.  Robb is less than happy I got his sister pregnant.  I was going to buy an apartment but I’m now looking at child-friendly houses instead.  And Sansa’s moving in with me.  Not like that, we’re not going to make a go of things for the sake of the baby.  It’ll all be very grown-up and have clear boundaries.”

“You hope”, Sam snorted.  Jon furrowed his brow. 

“You’ve always had a soft spot for Sansa Stark, Jon.  You know that as well as I do.  Though if Robb is less than happy about what’s happening, it explains why you never did anything about it.”

“Sansa doesn’t think about me that way”, Jon replied dismissively. 

She’d been drunk and horny and wanted to comfort him and things had got out of control.  Sansa had never said a thing to make Jon think that she saw him as anything more than her brother’s best friend.  Even if she did, right now it would do nothing but complicate matters. 

“How are the rest of her family taking it?”

“Ned’s been good.  He was supportive.  Catelyn…….she didn’t want Sansa to have a child this way, but Sansa says when she gets past that she’ll be excited about her first grandchild.  The rest of them don’t know yet.” 

Arya was the one he was most worried about, of the other three.  Jon knew she had moves that would make Robb’s punch feel like a tap on the shoulder.

Jon hesitated, and then voiced something that had bothered him for weeks. 

“Sam?  What if I don’t know how?” Jon asked quietly.  Sam’s father had been an ever-present though over-bearing figure in his life growing up, and Jon knew he would understand in a way Robb never could. 

“What if I don’t know how to be a good father?  I’ve never had one.”

“I never had a _good_ one.  I just did the opposite of what mine would have.” Jon nodded, and then apologized.  He felt bad for asking when he knew how difficult a subject it was for Sam. 

“It’s fine.  You’ll know the right thing to do when the time comes.”

“I should go.”  A glance at the clock told Jon he was due to meet Sansa in twenty minutes. 

Sam came over and took the baby from him.  Jon wasn’t sure if it was a smile or wind that had Aemon cooing as he did, but he hoped it was the former.  He had to remind himself that he’d been around Little Sam, his godson, since the day he was born. 

He could get the hang of this. 

“Give Sansa my number and bring her over sometime”, said Gilly.  She appeared as Sam showed Jon to the door.  “It’s a bit scary the first time round.  Tell her she can ask me whatever she likes.”

“I will do.”  Jon’s face lit up.  He was truly blessed to have friends like Sam and Gilly.  “Thank you, Gilly.”

**********

Jon arrived at the restaurant a few minutes before Sansa.  He was sipping his coke and flicking through the house brochures when she appeared at the table. 

“That’s some pile you’ve got there”, she smiled.  Jon got up and hugged Sansa, before helping her into her seat. 

“I had a pretty good meeting with Selyse”, he told her.  The realtor had grilled him for ten minutes on what he was looking for and then handed him the pile of brochures. 

The first couple he’d looked at were nothing like in his price range, and Jon guessed she’d probably just given him a bit of everything.  But it was better for Sansa to hear that their meeting had been productive.  And, in a way, he supposed it had been. 

“Oh?”

“She asked me a _lot_ of questions and it helped me get a better idea myself of what we’re looking for”, Jon clarified.  He sat down again, and put the brochures to the side. 

“Obviously the three bedrooms is a must, but her questions got me thinking on types of houses and where in Wintertown we should be looking.”

Sansa smiled.  “Near the schools would be helpful for when I go back to work.  Speaking of, I have a meeting with Brienne next week.  It’s my annual appraisal thingy but I want to use it to talk to her about maternity leave.  I want to know what my options are.”

The waiter appeared and took their order, and then Jon turned back to the subject of houses. 

“I haven’t had a chance to look through everything, but I thought maybe we could go and see this one.”  He handed her the brochure for an old house that had been converted into apartments on three levels. 

“Although it’s an apartment, we’d have the ground floor and therefore the garden.  It isn’t too far from the school and the pictures make it look like there won’t be any real work to do.”

Lack of necessary home improvements had been pretty high on Jon’s list.  He didn’t want Sansa stressing out over contractors.  Jon wasn’t opposed to some painting – he figured they’d at least have to do up the nursery – but he drew the line at knocking down walls, replacing the kitchen or bathroom and pretty much anything else that required a professional. 

Sansa looked through the property information and made humming noises as she did so.  Jon had to stop himself grinning at the sweetness of the sounds she made, and instead asked how her day had been.

“Urgh”, she sighed, a look of disgust crossing her face. 

“I had to send the Bolton boy to detention again.  It makes every parents’ meeting a nightmare, because his father insists on questioning me over and over again about whatever incident it was.  At which point he usually informs me that his son is innocent of all charges – blatantly untrue – and I never get a chance to tell him that his son is failing my class spectacularly.”

“He isn’t violent or anything?” Jon asked.  He bit his lip, worried that Sansa might end up hurt. 

“Not violent.  Just creepy.  I usually send him over for disruptive behaviour or chronic refusal to complete the assignments I set the class”, she shrugged. 

Sansa looked up.  “This apartment doesn’t actually look that bad.  It can’t be that easy, though?  Can it?  That the first place we come across is the right one?”

Sansa handed the brochure back and Jon tried to ignore the tingly sensation he felt when their fingers brushed. 

“I’ll call Selyse to set up an appointment.  In the meantime I thought if we take half of the brochures each and sort them into definite yes, maybe and definite no piles.  Then we can figure out which other ones we want to see.”

“Sounds good”, Sansa nodded.  “Good division of labour anyway.  I know I’ve said this enough times that I’m verging on becoming a broken record, but this means a lot to me.  It does, Jon.  I know you weren’t looking for a family home.  Neither of us planned this, but it means a lot to me that we’re working through this together.”

“I told Sam and Gilly”, said Jon.  He started fidgeting with the breadstick he’d taken out of the basket sitting on the table between them, snapping it into several smaller bits. 

“About the baby.  It was – it was good to have someone be supportive of us.  Of what we’re doing.”

“I’m glad.  I take it Robb is still ignoring you?”  Jon nodded. 

He’d sent Robb a couple of texts to test the waters, but hadn’t received a reply.  Jon hoped that they’d be able to work things out soon.  For Sansa’s sake as much as his.  She needed her big brother’s support. 

“Gilly said we should go over sometime.  The two of us.  Little Sam is three and Aemon is four months now.  Gilly offered to answer any questions you have.  She said it can be scary, the first time round.  Sansa?”

Jon looked at her nervously, unsure precisely what had caused the tears he could see coming.  Had his mention of pregnancy being scary unnerved her?

“Sorry”, she breathed, clearly trying to stop the tears from falling.  “Oooh.  Wow.  Sorry.”

“Sansa, you don’t need to apologise.  Just tell me what’s wrong.”  Jon got up and went round to Sansa’s side of the table, squatting down next to her. 

He could sense the people next to them taking an interest and wished they would just mind their own business.  Ignoring them, Jon took Sansa’s hands in his and asked her again what was wrong.

“Just – I don’t deserve this”, Sansa breathed.  Jon furrowed his brows.  Was she having second thoughts about the baby?

“ _This?_ ” he asked softly.   

“It shouldn’t be – I make a mistake, forget for one night that I came off the pill – and here you are.  Being as wonderful as you are.  Coming to appointments with me, rearranging your life, the house.”  Jon squeezed her hands. 

“And now you’re inflicting me on your friends.  Your true friends given that they’re offering to help unlike my brother………”

Jon mentally cursed the lack of self-confidence Sansa displayed sporadically, the blame for which he knew lay at the doors of Joffrey Baratheon and Harry Hardyng. 

As Robb had pointed out the night they’d told him about the baby, Jon knew well enough that Joffrey had hit Sansa more than once and tried to isolate her from her family – and that the concept of fidelity was lost on Harry.

“You deserve only good things”, Jon insisted.  “And I made a mistake as much as you did.  Though I think we need to stop referring to our child as a mistake.  Something I’m guilty of as well.”

Jon pulled his hands away from Sansa’s momentarily to brush away the tears on her cheeks. 

“And stop saying you don’t deserve me as if I’m somehow better than you.  If anything, you deserve better than me.  You deserve a guy who is with you for real and who will treat you like a princess because that’s what you should have.”

Sansa nodded.  "Don’t talk about yourself like you’re worthless either, Jon.  You’re an amazing guy.  One day, some woman is going to be very lucky to have you as her partner.  And I’m sorry – “

“Stop apologizing”, he smiled. 

“My emotions are just completely out of sync at the moment is all”, Sansa shrugged.  Jon stood back up and returned to his seat, seeing she had recovered enough. 

“Pregnancy hormones are not good.  I cried at three infomercials yesterday.  And Margaery has stopped us watching the evening news because I cry at half the stories.”

“Margaery pays attention to the evening news?” Jon quirked an eyebrow.  He liked Sansa’s friend and roommate, for all that he saw her as lacking in any sort of seriousness about the world. 

Sansa laughed, though, and that had been the reaction Jon was looking for. 

“Not anymore she doesn’t”, said Sansa.  She excused herself to go to the bathroom, and Jon watched her go with a heavy heart. 

Sansa deserved so much better than him and his inappropriate thoughts about their night together.  She deserved someone who would actually be responsible enough to use contraception in the first place. 

Jon steered clear of the baby and houses for the remainder of the dinner in an attempt to prevent Sansa from crying again.  Instead, he kept conversation light and told her about his application for the Pro-Bono Unit at work.  He also asked her to tell funny stories about her students. 

At the end of the evening when they were walking to their cars, Sansa had a request for him. 

“Arya and Gendry are up from White Harbour a week next Sunday.”  She bit her lip, and went on. 

“Bran and Rickon will be visiting that weekend as well – will you come for lunch and we can tell the rest of the family about the baby?  I hadn’t said anything to them because I wanted to do it in person.”

As nervous as he was at the prospect, Jon nodded.  “Of course.” 

He didn’t ask if Robb would be there, as he didn’t want to re-open _that_ wound, but he was relieved they at least seemed to have Ned’s support.  Hopefully at the very least that would prevent a repeat of what had happened the last time he and Robb met. 

Jon hugged Sansa goodnight and promised to call Selyse Florent the following morning to arrange a viewing of the apartment they’d seen and liked.  As he drove away, he tried not to think too much about how glowing she was – even with the tears. 

*********

Three days later, Jon drove Sansa to the apartment they were to view on a sunny Saturday afternoon.  Although it was late in the year, they had somehow been blessed with the perfect autumnal day of blue skies and low sunshine.  Even if it was cold.  _Very_ cold.

As he parked the car, Jon wondered if it were some sort of good omen for their house hunting. 

Selyse was waiting outside the building for them, and shook hands with both Jon and Sansa before leading them in. 

The building looked to be around a century or so old, and as they walked in the entrance Jon could see the high ceilings hinted at in the brochure.  He stood beside Sansa, a protective hand on the small of her back, as Selyse unlocked the front door of the ground floor apartment. 

“The owners had to move north urgently for family reasons.  They are looking for a quick sale”, Selyse told them. 

Jon walked into the hallway and saw that the furniture from the brochure pictures had been removed.  The place felt so empty and desolate. 

Jon wandered through to the living area as Selyse prattled on about how many people had already seen the property and the interest it had sparked.  Her words faded into the background as Jon tried to envision the furniture from his apartment in here.  He mentally placed his TV and a sofa, attempting to make it somewhat lived in. 

He turned to Sansa.  “First impressions?”

“It……is it just me or is it weird seeing it without any furniture?”

“It isn’t just you”, Jon smiled with relief.  “I was trying to place the little I have in here but I’m not very good at it.  The ceilings are high.”

“They are”, Sansa looked up and agreed.  “We wouldn’t feel closed in.”

Jon liked the sound of that.  _We_.  He mentally shook himself and set that thought aside.  He had to remember that he and Sansa weren’t really a _we_.

He took Sansa through to the kitchen, and started examining the fitted cupboards and oven. 

Jon could cook – his mother had insisted on teaching him as a teenager when her job meant she wasn’t always home when he returned from school – but he tended towards simple things, and after years of living with Robb had settled into a pattern of takeaways and quick pasta dishes. 

He knew Sansa loved to cook, though, and to bake. 

“You watch those home decorating shows on TV.  Is this a good kitchen?” Jon asked.  He stood up from his crouched position next to a cupboard and turned to face her.  Sansa shrugged. 

“It looks like it was put in within the last couple of years.  I remember when Robb took me over to see Jeyne’s apartment for the first time, she said the landlord had just installed new units for her.  That was around eighteen months ago.  Anyway, these units look a lot like the ones Jeyne has, don’t you think?” 

Jon noted the wobble in her voice when she said Robb’s name, but didn’t comment.  The Starks had always been a close family, for all that Sansa and Arya had constantly fought as children, and he knew how much it hurt that her brother wasn’t talking to her.

“To be honest, I don’t spend a lot of time checking out my friends’ kitchen units”, said Jon.  “Why don’t we go have a look at the other rooms?”

Jon followed her through to the bedrooms, thanking as many deities as he could that he’d suggested checking out other rooms.  Given the situation they were in, _checking out the bedrooms_ would not have been the best turn of phrase. 

Thankfully Selyse seemed to sense that they wanted to explore the property themselves and had started to hang back. 

There were three bedrooms, one of which was en-suite (something Jon was leaning towards so he and Sansa could have separate bathrooms).  Luckily they were all roughly the same size. 

Again, he tried to picture his own furniture and found it difficult.  He clearly lacked the imagination, and asked Sansa what she thought instead. 

“This would make a good nursery”, she said when they were in the bedroom that looked over the back garden.  She pointed outside.  “It’ll be a nice window to look out when I’m feeding the baby.  Yes, it’ll catch the afternoon sun during naptime, but we can get one of those blackout blind things that’ll make the room completely dark.”

“See, this is why I wanted you involved”, smiled Jon.  “I wouldn’t have thought of any of that.  All I’ve been doing is trying and failing to mentally transplant my furniture in here.”

“What do you think?  Overall?” Sansa asked. 

“I don’t know.”  And he honestly didn’t.  “I’ve never bought a house before.  My current and past apartments have been chosen either for their rental price or their proximity to college or work.  I’ve never had to think much beyond that.  I’ve never had to think about how to fit a place to live into a way of life I’ve never known.”

“That’s helpful”, Sansa laughed. 

“But I guess Margaery and I picked out our apartment because it was rent-controlled and not too far from shops and bars, so I’m not really in a position to judge.  Let’s go outside and see the garden.  I will say, though, that I don’t think we – you, I mean – should jump in and buy the first place for sale just because it seems alright.  There should be alternatives.”

“Yeah, I think so too”, Jon agreed.  He followed Sansa out of the room she’d identified as a potential nursery and back through to the kitchen, where the doors out to the garden were.  They slid the doors open, and Jon led her out onto a bank of grass. 

The lawn was small but neatly kept, and as Jon looked back at the house he could see how it could work.  But a glance upward reminded him they would be overlooked in this garden by their upstairs neighbours. 

“It isn’t too small, but it would be manageable at the same time”, Sansa reasoned.  “Dad could always lend us his mower to cut the grass.”

“He would”, Jon nodded.  He saw Selyse come out of the kitchen doors to meet them. 

“Thoughts?” she asked brightly.  Jon knew she was well aware this was within his price range. 

“Not bad”, Jon told her.  “We aren’t saying definitely not at this stage, but we won’t be putting in an offer either.  We’d like to see some more options before making a final decision.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sansa smile softly and again found himself pushing away the butterflies it caused. 

In the weeks that had followed their night together, he’d thought repeatedly about what had happened between them and whether it might potentially be something that could happen again.  That had all fallen by the wayside when she’d told him about the baby, and Jon had forced himself to focus on his unborn child. 

On _their_ unborn child. 

Selyse locked up the ground floor apartment behind them, but as much as Jon had said to her they weren’t ruling it out yet he couldn’t quite see himself living there.  If nothing else, this had shown him it was definitely a house he wanted rather than an apartment. 

His priorities were changing and it was scaring the living daylights out of him.  Jon just hoped that he would be able to work through it all. 

And regardless of his own feelings, he had to be strong for Sansa and for the baby.  What he wanted was simply going to have to take a back seat for now.


	7. Seven - Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa begins to deal with what the pregnancy will mean for her job.

Sansa felt butterflies in her stomach when she went to work on Tuesday morning that had nothing to do with the baby growing inside her.  The appraisal with Brienne was scheduled for their mutual free period at ten, and Sansa was nervous about telling her head of department that she was pregnant. 

She hadn’t told anyone at work and had mercifully escaped morning sickness there, which she knew would have given her away quite quickly. 

She felt like she was starting to get the hang of things and the sickness had abated.  It now only affected Sansa if she ate certain foods she had learned to avoid.  The smell of coffee still upset her stomach a little, but that simply meant she limited her time in the staffroom – something she had always tended to do in any case. 

Luckily Sansa’s first class was watching the second half of a documentary on the Fifth Blackfyre Rebellion, and so she didn’t have to concentrate as much as she would if she was presenting a powerpoint or going over material with the class. 

She simply sat at the back of the room, eyes flitting around to ensure nobody had fallen asleep or started a conversation. 

Teaching was important to her, and she wanted to return to her job after the baby was born. 

Brienne had always been so dedicated to her work and Sansa had looked up to her since she’d joined the department.  It had been wonderful for her to have a mentor who encouraged everything she did. 

In a way – although she knew it was madness to do so – Sansa felt she was letting Brienne down by falling pregnant.  She was letting her life get in the way of her teaching and the maternity leave she needed would disrupt the small department. 

She knocked tentatively on Brienne’s door, and entered.  Brienne was sat behind her desk, smiling as she looked up from a large pile of papers Sansa recognized as drafts for the end of term examinations. 

Sansa forced a smile, and then closed the door behind her. 

“No need to look so grim”, Brienne told her kindly. 

“I prefer to use these meetings as discussions on how we can develop your career.  It is counter-productive to spend them detailing every mistake someone has made.  We learn from our mistakes as much as our students do.  Now, would you like a coffee before we start?”

“Do – do you have decaf?” Sansa asked tentatively. 

Brienne snorted.  She boiled the kettle that sat in the corner of her office and poured granules into the mug Sansa knew was her favourite. 

“No.  Unfortunately I’m not sure I would be able to function without caffeine.  What made you decide to give it up?  Coffee got me through college and by then I was so used to it, I’m not sure I could give it up.”

Sansa took a deep breath in and sighed.  She might as well get it over and done with, though she was too nervous to look Brienne in the eye as she spoke and focused instead on her hands. 

“I didn’t have much choice in the matter”, she admitted.  She twisted her hands.

“Though I have found decaf to be much better than I would have anticipated, I – I’m pregnant and caffeine is one of the things I’m not supposed to have.  But I’m not sure I could drink strong coffee now even if I wanted to.  The smell turns my stomach.  It has done for weeks.”

Sansa looked up, and saw only compassion in Brienne’s blue eyes. 

“Congratulations”, she smiled.  But Sansa could see concern in her smile too.  “How far along are you?”

“Fourteen weeks.  I’m starting to get the hang of it now.  I still get horrendously emotional – more so than I should – at the silliest of things, but I haven’t broken down in front of a class yet so that’s something I guess.” Sansa forced a laugh. 

“It’s alright.  I didn’t plan this, you know that as well as anyone, but it’s happening.”

Brienne sat back down with her mug of coffee.  “I hadn’t known you were seeing anyone.”

Sansa shook her head.  “It’s…….complicated.”

_Complicated_ was an understatement. 

Before she’d fallen pregnant her life had been simple and structured.  She’d had a routine professionally and a personal life in which she did as she pleased.  Now Sansa’s life was focused on her child. 

And instead of being free and single, she was tied forever to a man she wasn’t really with.

“Life is always complicated”, Brienne shrugged.  “You’ll have my support, if that means anything.”

“It does”, Sansa assured her.

“Good.  Well, I’ll make sure you aren’t given too much extra work.  I can make sure your name isn’t on the cover list for any classes, so you only have your own workload to worry about, and luckily we’re hardly a department with much in the way of extra-curricular activities.”  Sansa smiled at that. 

Brienne had a point – the PE Department ran numerous sports clubs both before and after school, and the English Department covered Drama Club and their associated performances. 

“I know we’ve got the departmental meeting this week about forthcoming field trips.  I’ll limit what you need to do there.  We should have a couple of student teachers on placement here around that time.  If they can come on the trips, you shouldn’t need to.  If not, and you don’t feel up to it, I can always snag a supply teacher from somewhere.  But, on a slightly less practical note, how are you?  Is there anything I can do to help?” Brienne finished. 

Sansa felt a little overwhelmed by the support.  “The school won’t make a fuss?  I’m in my mid-twenties and unmarried.  I know it doesn’t send the best message, and that some of the parents won’t be happy about it.”

Brienne stood up and came round to sit in the seat next to the one Sansa had taken. 

“All I care about is that you’re a good teacher”, Brienne told her. 

“The students like you and they enjoy your classes.  But, at the same time, you still discipline them when necessary.  They know your boundaries and respect you for it.  Not every teacher in this school can say the same.  So I won’t hear any more negative things about this.  Understand?”

Sansa nodded and smiled.  She should have confided in Brienne sooner. 

“Of course, there is the matter of your maternity leave.  You’re entitled to take up to twelve months.  How much of your standard pay you get depends on when you return – there’s a scale I’m not overly familiar with.  You’re the only other woman in the department so I don’t have cause to check the precise figures often.  I’ll find that out – unless, have you thought much about how long you want to take off?”

Ideally, Sansa knew she would love to take the full twelve months.  For all that Jon had made it clear that he didn’t want her to worry about the financial side of things, she didn’t want to take advantage of him. 

He was already paying for a house she would be living in rent-free.  They had yet to discuss the division of bills and other household/baby expenses. 

The last thing Sansa wanted was for Jon to feel she saw him as a free ticket.  Knowing Jon as she did, she doubted that would be the case, but past experience had a tendency to get in her head at times and make her doubt what she knew to be true.

“I haven’t quite decided yet”, she said slowly.  This was something she’d have to discuss with Jon – aside from anything else, she wasn’t sure yet how much parental leave he would be granted. 

“I don’t have to decide immediately, do I?”

“Oh, no.  But I would like you to stop around Easter at the latest – that’ll be about a month before you’re due, given when it falls next spring.  I’m ultimately responsible for your welfare here, and I don’t want you going into labour in the middle of a class”, Brienne laughed. 

“Though I suppose if nothing else it might put some of them off starting families of their own too soon.”

“Glad to be of service”, Sansa smiled.  “And thank you for being so understanding.  It hasn’t been easy over the last few weeks.  I’m just lucky Jon has been so good.”

“Jon?”

Sansa looked down at her belly, which still wasn’t showing when she was clothed. 

“Jon is the baby’s father.  He’s a good man.  He’ll be a good father.”  She just wished Robb could see that. 

Her brother still wasn’t speaking to either of them, and it broke her heart a little.  Robb had always been there for her from the moment she was born.  He was the first friend she’d ever had.

“I’ve known him a long time.  He’ll look after us.”

“Anytime you need someone to talk to, please remember I’m always here.  Sansa, I mean it.  You’re not only my responsibility professionally – I like to think you’re also my friend.” 

“As do I”, she replied.  Sansa felt better having spoken to Brienne about the baby.  It felt like there was a weight off her shoulders from having it known outside of herself at work.  It would be helpful in the coming weeks and months. 

She knew it wouldn’t be long before she started showing properly and would have to answer countless questions, particularly given that – as Brienne had pointed out – she wasn’t known to be seeing anyone.

“And you’ll need to let me know if there’s any appointments you have during school hours.”

“There shouldn’t be.  I’ve asked Doc. Luwin to schedule all my appointments for late afternoon.  It suits Jon better in any case.  He can just leave work early, and catch up on paperwork in the evenings.” 

_In between looking for houses and packing up his apartment._  

Sansa worried sometimes that he was taking too much on.  She knew he was looking to move into another role at his firm, and that the application process was extensive.

**********

They spent the remainder of the meeting discussing Sansa’s classes and any students she felt were in danger of failing.  Sansa felt refreshed and lighter when she returned to her own classroom. 

There were around fifteen minutes until her next class started and she had already prepared the teaching materials on the regency of Aegon III, so Sansa picked up her phone and decided to text Jon about the meeting. 

Halfway through the text she changed her mind, and decided to call him.  Not wanting to set Jon’s mobile off in the middle of a meeting, she dialled the office number he’d given her.

“Good morning, Mormont and Associates.  This is Jon Snow’s office”, came a female voice.  “You’re speaking to Alys.  How can I help you today?”

“Oh, erm, hi”, said Sansa, suddenly feeling a little nervous.  Maybe she should just have texted Jon.  This was hardly an emergency.  But he _had_ told her to call whenever she wanted. 

“This is Sansa Stark.  Is Jon available?”

“He asked that I pass you through immediately if you call, Miss Stark.  Please hold the line and I’ll transfer you.”  Sansa heard the hold music momentarily, and the next voice on the line was Jon’s. 

“Sansa?  Is everything alright?”  He was failing badly at hiding his concern, if indeed he was trying to do so.  She smiled to herself when she thought of how much he cared. 

“Everything’s fine.  I just had my meeting with Brienne.  I told her about the baby.”

“And?”

“And she promised to make my pregnancy as easy as possible.  She asked how long I want to take for maternity leave.  I thought that was something we should discuss together.  I can take up to twelve months – do you want to come over tonight for dinner?  We could talk about that and work through some of the other brochures Selyse gave us.” 

Sansa bit her lip.  Although she and Jon were intending to live together, they had spent so much time in each other’s company over the last few weeks that they may as well already be. 

Part of her felt guilty, though, for taking up huge quantities of the little free time Jon had.  There would be even less of it when the baby arrived. 

“That sounds good – and you’ve just reminded me that I need to call Selyse and tell her we won’t be taking the ground floor apartment any further.  What food’s best for you?”

“Oh.  Uh, my stomach doesn’t mind Pentoshi food.  But you’ll need to ask for it without the sauce.  Just what I normally get.  Minus the sauce, obviously.  See you around seven?”

“Great.  See you then, Sansa.  Bye.”

“Bye.” 

He had sounded a lot brighter by the end of the call.  There was a part of Sansa that wished she could go back in time not to the moment in which she’d launched herself at Jon Snow, but to the moment the morning after when they’d woken up and realized what had happened between them. 

That part of her wished she’d said a sequel wouldn’t be so bad.  In fact, it would have been the opposite of bad. 

Sansa pushed any thought of Jon in that sense to the back of her mind.  It would complicate everything too much if she told him that now.  They would be living together _and_ raising a child together.  In the meantime, she needed him alongside her and she couldn’t do that if every meeting they had was made awkward because she’d made a move on him.  No.  The time for that had, sadly, passed her by.

********** 

Although she had assured Brienne that she was getting used to her pregnancy, Sansa still tired quite easily and she was relieved as she awaited Jon’s arrival that he was bringing takeout. 

Margaery worked as a fashion designer and was preparing for King’s Landing Fashion Week, which entailed much longer hours than normal.  As such, she had been home far less than usual over the last fortnight and it had made Sansa realize just how much her friend had been doing for her.

Sansa buzzed Jon up just before seven, and set the table while he climbed the stairs to the apartment.  He grinned as he walked through the door with a bag of food that made Sansa’s mouth water. 

Her sense of smell had become far more pronounced over the past few weeks. 

“That smells good”, she told him.  She took the bag and started to set the cartons out on the table. 

Although they were minus the bottles of wine and whiskey, it reminded her a little of the night she’d gone over to his apartment and they’d conceived their child. 

Sansa pushed thoughts of that to the back of her mind and poured them out some fruit juice while Jon sat down. 

“I called Selyse and told her we’d pass on the apartment”, said Jon.  “She didn’t sound too surprised, but said if we changed our minds then we needed to do so quickly – she has another client considering an offer.  I’m not sure if that’s the case.”

Jon shrugged, and said that Selyse was sending over brochures for a couple of places that had just come onto the market over the last few days.  Sansa wondered precisely how many of these things they would need to go through, and how many places they would need to see, before they found somewhere. 

They spent most of their meal debating the pros and cons of the properties Selyse had already sent over details on.  Most of them were discarded for one reason or another – which Jon said proved his initial impression that Selyse had simply handed him a bit of everything regardless of the questions she’d asked – but they’d identified half a dozen they wanted to go and view. 

Jon told her he would phone Selyse the following day to set up some appointments.  As she felt her belly, Sansa reminded herself of how time-sensitive their move was. 

If it came to it, Sansa supposed she could move into Jon’s apartment on a short-term basis – the baby could share her room for a month or two, after all. 

Or, worst case scenario, she could always take up the offer her mother had made.  Sansa really didn’t want to do that, though.  She wanted to show to her parents that she was independent enough to deal with this without their constant assistance.

“Margaery still trying to re-clothe the entire population of Westeros?” said Jon as he looked around the apartment.  There were samples from her designs draped over the sofa and the armchair Marge loved.

“Something like that”, Sansa laughed.  She moved the last of the brown rice around her plate. 

“I have a lot of respect for her, though.  I know some people think fashion is a bit flighty and the home of airheads, but Marge is so creative and she’s been working sixteen and eighteen hour days over the last week or so.  I couldn’t do that, even before the baby.”

“I haven’t done that since I was a student”, mused Jon through a mouthful of chicken and broccoli.  “Sorry.  So, you said on the phone that Brienne was really good about things?”

Sansa nodded.  “She was.  I don’t entirely know what I was so worried about.”

She did wonder, however, if Robb’s reaction had made her wary of other people’s. 

“You said you can take up to a year?”

“Yes.  Brienne says there’s some sort of pay scale thing to work out; she’s going to find out the details for me”, she told Jon. 

She went to clear the table, but he gave her a look that had Sansa sitting straight back down again.

“Leave the pay scale thing out of it”, said Jon from the sink.  “I don’t want you worrying about stupid things.  How long do you _want_ to take off?”

Sansa felt touched, but was keen not to be any more dependent on him than she had to be. 

“Money isn’t a stupid thing.  It isn’t.  I’m already imposing on you far too much.  And I’ll need to think more about how much leave I want to take.  At the moment, I’m leaning towards the full year.  But the school can be flexible.  Brienne says the upper management shouldn’t make too much fuss either.  Over the whole unmarried pregnant teacher thing.  Do – do you know how much leave you’re entitled to?”

Jon finished loading the dishwasher before he turned round to speak to her. 

“It shouldn’t matter that we’re not married.  What should matter is whether you’re good at your job.  And you _are_.  Again, please don’t worry about the money side of things.  I don’t want a fight over it.  I want you to take as much maternity leave as you need and enjoy the time you get to spend with the baby.  As for me, I’ll need to ask Alys for the employee leave regulations.  I haven’t done anything about it yet because I wanted your family to know before I started telling people at work.”

“Oh”, said Sansa softly. 

“I didn’t want someone overhearing something and then it turns into a rumour that Arya or one of the boys hear from someone on Facebook.  They should hear it from you”, he said. 

Jon sat back down opposite her. 

“Thank you.”  Once again, she was touched by how considerate Jon was being. 

She didn’t want to fight over the money side of things any more than he did, but she also wanted to avoid being too dependent on Jon.  Sansa didn’t want to take advantage. 

Sansa patted Jon’s hand across the table.  “I don’t want a fight over the money thing either.  I just don’t ever want you to feel like I’m imposing on your generosity.  You’re already doing far more than most men would in this situation.”

“Think of it as me covering childcare costs.  With you being the childcare.”  Sansa smiled at that.  “And you’d still be getting paid.  We’ll both contribute what we can and work things out as we go along.”

“Deal”, Sansa agreed.  “Speaking of spending money on things, I’ll need a whole new wardrobe soon.”

“Not for a while, surely?” Jon put the kettle on for coffee.  “You aren’t even showing yet.”

“Yes and no”, Sansa shrugged.  She stood up and went over to Jon.  “If you didn’t know I was pregnant, you would take one look at me and say I wasn’t.  Or, at the very least, that it was very early on, right?”

“Yes.”

“But if I do this…”  Sansa untucked her loose blouse and lifted it up above her belly, pooling it below her breasts.  She turned sideways, and indicated the small hint of a swell to Jon.  “See?”

“Wow”, he breathed. 

Jon stuffed his knuckles in his mouth, and she saw the look of sheer wonder in his eyes that she’d identified in her own when she looked in the mirror to see it for the first time. 

Sansa had to hold back when she saw the wide grin that grew across Jon’s face.  His smiles were always small, but pronounced – this one, however, showed her how truly happy he was about their child. 

And it made her want to pull Jon Snow into her arms and kiss him into next week. 

“Here.”  Sansa settled for taking his hand and placing it on the small swell.  “Your baby.  _Our_ baby.”

“Wow”, he muttered again.  His eyes locked on Sansa’s.  “Sorry – I’m not always so good with words.  But.  Wow.  It’s amazing.  Just amazing.”

Jon pulled her into a tight hug, and Sansa felt herself get emotional again.  He hugged her a lot more now than he used to.  When Jon stood back, there were tears falling down her cheeks. 

“Happy tears, I promise”, she told Jon when he wiped them away. 

“I just – its little things like this that make it feel so real.”  She didn’t mention some of the other things – like the tenderness in her breasts that made putting a bra on a little uncomfortable each morning, or the fact that she no longer needed to buy tampons once a month. 

Sansa figured there were some things Jon didn’t need to know. 

“Thank you”, said Jon.  Sansa raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.  In a way, she sort of understood. 

He may not have anticipated things happening this way any more than she had, but Jon wanted this child as deeply as her.  This child wasn’t a nuisance or an inconvenience to him, but an unexpected gift. 

They were past referring to her pregnancy as a mistake.

“I should be going”, Jon told her once they’d had their decaf coffee.  “I’ll text or call you tomorrow after I’ve spoken to Selyse about going to see those houses, and I’ll let you know if the new brochures she’s sending over are worth anything.”

“Sounds good”, Sansa replied as she showed him to the door. 

“In the meantime, please rest”, Jon pleaded.  “And if there’s anything you need help with while Margaery is working insane hours then let me know.  Seriously.  Even if it’s just to pick up your dry cleaning or do your grocery shopping.”

“I will”, Sansa promised.  “Night, Jon.”

“Bye.”  He hugged her again, and then left. 

Sansa shut the door behind Jon and decided to take his advice by running herself a hot bubble bath.  She had some paperwork to do – the end of term exams were coming up and she had some revision classes to prepare for – but Brienne and Jon had both insisted she not overexert herself, and Sansa decided to take her advice. 

As she sank into the warm bubbles fifteen minutes later, Sansa felt her muscles relax. 

She thought yet again on how much Jon was doing for her and decided to try and approach Jeyne Westerling as surreptitiously and soon as possible and see if there was any way for her to help bring Robb round. 

As much as Sansa needed her big brother, she knew that Jon also needed his best friend.


	8. Eight - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finds a house he wants badly and the remaining Starks find out about Sansa's pregnancy........

As soon as Jon pulled up to the cottage at twilight on Friday evening, he knew that this house was unequivocally _the one_. 

He’d been keen on it as soon as he opened up the brochure on Wednesday morning and seen the two centuries-old building staring back at him.  Jon had picked up the phone to call Selyse immediately (even though they’d already spoken first thing that day) and asked her to book them in for the first available evening appointment.

Jon’s next call had been to Sansa.  He didn’t want to buy a house she’d never seen, and he’d gone over that night to show her the brochure. 

As reserved as he normally was, Jon knew instantly that he would do whatever it took to get this house.  When Selyse opened up the front door, Jon felt as if he were coming home.  The house was quirky and full of original features that Sansa had cooed over the pictures of. 

“Oh, Jon”, she whispered from next to him when they entered the sizeable living room.  “It’s beautiful.”

Jon had to agree.  If anything, the pictures in the brochure hadn’t done the place justice.  Perhaps it was because unlike the last property they’d seen, there was furniture still in the house. 

It made Jon’s attempts to envision his own things in their place a lot easier.  It looked warm and inviting rather than cold and bare.  It looked lived in. 

“All three bedrooms are upstairs”, said Selyse once she’d shown them the kitchen and main bathroom.  “I’ll let you go up and have a look around yourselves.”

Jon led the way up the stairs, and walked into the first of the three bedrooms.  “Is this the en-suite one?” Sansa asked. 

“I think so”, he replied.  Jon pointed at what was unmistakeably a door in the corner of the room. 

As Sansa checked out the bathroom, Jon tried to figure out how much work would be required on the rooms they’d seen so far.  He thought the downstairs ones would be fine, but this bedroom definitely needed a coat of paint. 

Paint was doable.  Painting was the limit of his home improvement skills, sadly, and he wanted to limit the work required for a new house. 

Sansa was fifteen weeks gone (or would be the next day) and he wanted them to be properly settled well before the baby arrived.  When their baby left the hospital, Jon wanted him or her to come back to a home – not a building site. 

“This is good”, Sansa said when she came back out the bathroom.  She glanced out of the window.  “There’s a really nice view of the garden from here, and you can’t hear any of the noise from the road.”

“Let’s go and see the other two bedrooms”, he suggested.  There were another two, both smaller, but not massively so.  The first of them was to the right of the first bedroom and also overlooked the back garden.  Jon instantly identified this as the potential nursery, and told Sansa so.

“Yeah, I think so too.  It would need painted, but again that isn’t too much work.  White, though.  Or some shade of cream.  I hate the idea of a pink or a blue nursery.  And I don’t want to know if we’re having a boy or a girl until the day he or she is born, so that would take away that problem.”

“I know we hadn’t talked about it, but I don’t want to know in advance either”, Jon admitted. 

“There are so few real surprises in life.”

“Exactly.  So, cream it is.  Or yellow.  I guess that would be a gender neutral colour”, Jon mused.  Sansa snorted in response. 

“As much as I love lemony things, my child is not moving into a _yellow_ nursery.  Nuh uh.”

“Okay”, Jon laughed.  “Cream it is.  We can always add things in when we get to know him or her.”

After they looked at the third bedroom – which was at the front of the cottage and, mercifully in Jon’s opinion, let in as little outside noise as the other two – Jon followed Sansa back downstairs and into the garden. 

It was a little smaller than the one they’d seen at the ground floor apartment they’d viewed, but Jon didn’t mind that.  He’d take privacy over a little extra space any day, and this garden wasn’t overlooked. 

“I like the wall.  I always loved the idea of a walled garden”, Sansa told him from the flower patch next to the large stone barrier that separated their garden from that of their potential new neighbour. 

“There’s something very romantic about it for a little girl.”

“You think we’re having a girl?” Jon asked.  He bit his lip.  He wasn’t convinced either way, and wasn’t overly biased towards one or the other. 

But, at the same time, he had envisaged a girl with Sansa’s hair and eyes; a girl who had her father wrapped around her little finger. 

Jon had a feeling he was going to be one of those fathers who could deny their child nothing.

“I’m not sure”, Sansa shrugged.  “I just meant that I would have found a garden like this romantic when I was a little girl.”

As he looked around, Jon could understand what Sansa meant.  He could picture them – well, him more than Sansa this time round given her pregnancy – planting flowers in the springtime, and waiting for them to bloom. 

He could picture the two of them outside with their baby on a sunny summer evening.  This would be a beautiful place to bring a baby home to.

Jon told himself that it fitted all their practical requirements too.  The cottage was large enough that he and Sansa wouldn’t be in each other’s way all the time, but small enough that the upkeep wouldn’t be horrendous.  It wasn’t far to the centre of town (where Jon worked) or to Wintertown High.

And it was close enough to Ned and Catelyn’s house that they could come over to help or babysit, but not close enough that Sansa would feel suffocated by their support.

“What do you think?” Sansa asked. 

She was chewing on her bottom lip in a way that Jon couldn’t help but find adorable.  The low, last flashes of sunlight caught her hair and it hit Jon yet again how pregnancy only seemed to have made Sansa more beautiful. 

“What?”

“I asked what you thought”, Sansa repeated.  “About the house?”

“Oh.”  Jon decided to be honest.  “I want to buy it.  It’s perfect.  I want to put an offer in and to hell with it if I have to pay more than it’s actually worth.”

Sansa laughed.  “I love it too.”

They went back inside to find Selyse close to dozing on the sofa.  She jumped up when they walked in.  “Well?”

“I’ll call your office first thing on Monday to put a formal offer in”, Jon told her.  “We’re very keen on this cottage."

“Excellent!” Selyse beamed.  Jon could almost see the money signs behind her eyes at the thought of the commission she would receive.  “Well, let’s make a move then.”

Jon took the hint, and walked out to the front.  He turned round and looked up at the cottage again.  He hoped it would be his new home – _their_ new home. 

Jon walked Sansa to her car, and they made arrangements to meet up on Sunday morning. 

“How likely is it that Arya’s going to hit me?” Jon asked. 

The younger Stark sister may be the shortest one in the family, but Jon knew well enough that she could pack the deadliest punch.  While Sansa had favoured yoga and jogging as a teenager, Arya had preferred to work out at kick-boxing and mixed martial arts classes. 

Sansa laughed.  “Not very.  Arya likes you a lot more than she likes me.”

“I don’t think that’s true”, said Jon.  “She might tease you, but she’d go after anyone else who did.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Arya.  She won’t hit you with dad there.  She’s always looked up to him.”  Jon hoped Sansa was right. 

Catelyn was starting to come round, according to Sansa, and was asking more questions about how she was coping with her pregnancy.  At the very least she seemed to accept the situation. 

But with Robb still being such a stubborn Stark about everything, Jon wanted Sansa to have the support of the rest of her siblings. 

If nothing else, perhaps seeing the rest of the family supporting him and Sansa might start the process of changing Robb’s mind.

“I’ll come over around noon then.  But drop me a text or give me a call tomorrow if you need anything.  And I mean _anything_ ”, he told her. 

Margaery would be working horrendous hours for another fortnight, and then would be off to King’s Landing, so Jon knew Sansa couldn’t rely on her roommate to be around all the time in the foreseeable future. 

In the meantime, Jon knew he had to figure out a strategy to get that cottage.

**********

Sunday dawned bright, but cold, and had Jon hoping that the sunshine proved to be a good omen.  He knew from a text message Sansa had sent the previous afternoon that Robb would be at her parents’ house for lunch; that her mother had demanded his attendance – along with Jeyne, if possible.   

Keen to retain Catelyn’s tentative support, Jon had bought a bottle of her favourite white wine to take over the house with him.  He carried it in a bright gift bag as he walked over to Sansa’s apartment. 

They’d agreed, yet again, that she would drive both of them over. 

Jon wondered if Ned would still offer him a glass of whiskey when he realized how much of a persona non grata he was with Robb, Jon’s supposed best friend and Ned’s eldest son.  He felt a little guilty as that thought passed through his mind.  Of all the Starks, Ned had been the most supportive. 

As soon as Jon had made it clear to him that he was putting Sansa and the baby at the centre of everything, Ned had accepted what was happening. 

_“Being a parent is a tremendous responsibility”, Ned had told him.  “But I can see you understand that.  I can see you are already making sacrifices for your child.  And that is what parenthood is about.  Welcome to the club.”_

_They’d toasted the baby with a second glass of whiskey he hadn’t mentioned to Sansa.  As someone who’d never known his own father, and had always looked up to Robb and Sansa’s, it meant a lot to Jon that Ned Stark trusted him and seemed to think him worthy of fathering his first grandchild._

_“Sansa grew up with very romantic notions.  She and Arya were always opposites in that regard.  But I know better than my daughter thinks just how much she’s been disabused of those notions she had as a girl.”_

_Jon had felt a bit uncomfortable at that.  Robb had told him far more than he probably should have of Joffrey and Harry.  More than Jon suspected Ned and Catelyn knew._

_“You are by far the best man Sansa has ever brought into our home.  I know you have spent a lot of time here as Robb’s friend.  I know you and Sansa aren’t a couple.  But I trust you more with my daughter than any other boy or man she’s introduced to me.”_

That had meant a lot to Jon too. 

“So, that’s why you wanted to know my mother’s favourite wine”, Sansa grinned when she saw the contents of Jon’s bottle bag.  He shrugged. 

“I’d be a fool not to try and get on the good side of my child’s grandmother.  Besides, my mother raised me right.  You should never go visiting without taking a gift for your hostess.”

Sansa laughed at that, and shoved him out of her front door.  She was looking as radiant as she had the last couple of weeks, and once again Jon had to restrain himself. 

He had to remember that Sansa wasn’t his.  Not really.  The circumstances of their one night together had ensured it.  If he showed her how he truly felt, it would lead to an awkwardness they couldn’t afford to have.  Not if they were going to live together. 

Jon didn’t want Sansa to move in and worry that he would try and seduce her every chance he got.  Jon snorted at that thought.  As if seduction was something he was well versed in!

“What?” Sansa said following the snort. 

“Nothing.  So, is Gendry coming up with Arya?” He changed the subject.

“Yeah, I got a text from her to say they arrived yesterday afternoon.  For all my sister claims to be unconventional, she’s been with Gendry for a long time.  And I know for a fact that there’s never been anyone else in the picture.” 

Sansa turned on the ignition and backed her car out of the parking space.  Jon took a deep breath in as he tried to mentally prepare himself for an afternoon chez Stark. 

He’d spent the previous day working out a scale of offers for the cottage he and Sansa had seen on Friday evening. 

Jon would pay the asking price if he had to (and could even potentially go a bit higher if necessary) given the mortgage agreement he had, and which he hadn’t discussed in any depth with Sansa, but he wasn’t going to start off by agreeing to pay every copper the vendor wanted if there was a chance he could get it for less. 

When they turned into the Stark family driveway, Jon noted instantly that Robb’s car was missing.  This was one of the reasons Sansa had offered to drive him.  They both figured that if Robb saw Jon’s car parked there, it was possible he might just drive away and plead illness with Catelyn later. 

Sansa had told him that she’d asked Catelyn to set an extra place and told her why.  And that she’d insisted nobody tell Robb that Jon would be there. 

That was the point at which Jon realized they couldn’t hide Robb’s feelings about Sansa’s pregnancy from her parents any longer. 

“Here we go, then”, said Jon as he and Sansa unbuckled their seatbelts.  When he closed the car door behind him, Jon looked up at the house and saw Ned wave at them.  Jon returned the gesture, and swallowed. 

As had been the case the last time he’d come along with Sansa, it was Catelyn that answered the door.  He handed her the gift bag, and suppressed a feeling of triumph at the look on her face when she saw what was inside. 

“Thank you”, said Jon.  Catelyn smiled, and he could tell that Sansa was right – she was starting to come round.  Jon hoped it wouldn’t be a slow process. 

“Jon!”  As soon as he entered the family room, Arya jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck.  “I haven’t seen you in forever!  Why do you never talk to me on Facebook anymore?”

“Been busy”, Jon told her as he guiltily returned her embrace.  He and Arya had always been close, but would she be hugging him like this if she knew he’d got Sansa pregnant? 

“I have a lot of stuff going on at the moment.  But that shouldn’t be an excuse.  I’ll try and fix that.”

“Make sure you do”, Arya ordered. 

Ned shook his hand and offered him a whiskey.  Jon accepted and went to sit over by Gendry while Sansa caught up with her sister. 

He heard Arya ask why she had brought Jon rather than Robb, but didn’t catch her response. 

“Having a good weekend?” Jon asked Gendry. 

“Not too bad.  Just a quiet one, really.  Catelyn insisted we come up, so here we are.” 

Jon wondered if she had quietly arranged this weekend so Sansa could tell everyone in person.  He wasn’t sure when it had been decided that Bran, Rickon and Arya would all descend at the same time. 

“How’s everything going at work?”  Gendry was a mechanic and had recently opened up his own garage in White Harbour. 

“Good.  Starting to build up a decent bit of business.  You?”

“Not bad.  I’ve applied for another job in the same place.  Better hours, and a greater chance of job satisfaction”, Jon told him. 

Their conversation didn’t get any further, as he heard another car pull up in the driveway.  A car Jon knew instantly was Robb’s.  He took a deep breath in and glanced at Sansa, who nodded. 

She left her place beside Arya, and came to sit beside Jon.  He grabbed her hand in between them, hoping nobody else could see, and waited for Robb to come in. 

The voices in the hallway told him that Jeyne had also come and Jon hoped that would help calm Robb a little.  Arya hadn’t moved, and so was the first person Robb saw when he came into the room.  Once he’d hugged her, though, the temperature seemed to fall about a hundred degrees. 

“What’s he doing here?” Robb asked coldly.  Jon closed his eyes.  There could be little doubt who he was talking about. 

“Hey!” Arya exclaimed.  As Jon opened his eyes he saw Arya hit her brother.  “Don’t talk about Gendry like that.”

“I’m not talking about _Gendry_.”

“Robb, please.”  Jon could hear the emotion in Sansa’s voice and he tightened the grip on her hand. 

He wanted Sansa to know she had his support.  That if it came to choosing – as he supposed it already had – he was with her. 

“Sansa.” 

“What’s going on?” Arya asked.  Jon could see how puzzled she was.  She’d never seen him and Robb argue over anything.  They’d always been close, always been in sync.  Even when they disagreed it turned into a joke. 

“Ask Sansa”, said Robb stubbornly.  “I take it she hasn’t told you yet?”

“Told me what?”

“Robb, come and have a drink”, said Ned. 

Jon silently thanked him for trying to diffuse the situation.  He noted how embarrassed Jeyne seemed to be, and hoped he and Sansa could make an ally of sorts of her. 

Jon knew how much Sansa needed Robb, and it mattered more to him that Sansa had her big brother back than it did for him to have his best friend. 

“What’s going on?” Arya persisted.  Jon had always thought her the most stubborn of all the Starks, but Robb was giving his youngest sister a run for her gold. 

Jon squeezed Sansa’s hand. 

“I’m pregnant”, said Sansa.  “Fifteen weeks.  The baby’s due late spring, early summer.  So, yeah.”

Arya looked confused.  “But what’s that got to do with – “

And then Arya did the last thing Jon could ever have anticipated.  She started laughing.  “Oh, this is priceless.  Congratulations, Sans.  You’ve finally joined the unconventionals!”

“This isn’t funny”, Robb insisted.

“What’s got up your nose?” Arya asked him. 

“I would have thought that was obvious.”

Arya scoffed.  “And what?  You’d rather Joffrey or Harry was the father of Sansa’s child?  Tell me, would our niece or nephew be better off with a violent asshole or a man incapable of being faithful as a father?”

“I didn’t mean that, but – “

“But what?” Sansa spoke up.  Jon sat next to her, unable to speak – as much as he wanted to – for fear of making things worse. 

“Am I the only one that can see a problem with this?” Robb asked.  “With him knocking up our sister in a drunken – “

“Robb!”  Jon almost jumped at the sound of Ned’s voice.  “That’s enough.  Don’t speak about your sister in that way.”

Ned rarely raised his voice.  When he did, his children listened.

Jon stood up, his hand still holding Sansa’s. 

“I know you don’t like this.  I know you think I’m not good enough to be the father of Sansa’s child.  Fine.  But think about her for a moment – do you think this is easy for her to go through all of this without her brother?  I told you before, the stress isn’t good for her or for the baby.  I don’t care about me.  I don’t matter.  Just – just be there for them, please?”

“I – urgh.  Jeyne, come on.”  Jon caught Jeyne’s eyes, and saw her nod quickly in his direction.  Perhaps he had an ally of sorts there. 

Robb stormed out, with Jeyne in his wake, and Jon winced as he saw Catelyn chasing outside after them. 

He wanted to feel relieved that she was trying to bring him round because it indicated her support but Jon knew it was far more complicated than that.  Her family was fighting each other.

“Congratulations.  On the baby thing”, said Gendry.  He looked a bit awkward, sitting on the sofa looking up at him, but Jon appreciated the sentiment. 

“Thanks.” Jon smiled at him.  Arya walked over to them, and looked up at Jon.

“Yeah, same here.  But, dude, my sister – really?  I have to say, I thought you had better taste than that.”

“Arya!” Sansa exclaimed.  But Jon could tell that even she was touched by her sister’s support.  Sansa turned to Jon. 

“I told you that Arya wouldn’t hit you!”

“Why would I hit him?  Jon’s proof that you can actually have reasonable taste in men.  Not that I would, because he’s like my brother, but he’s an actual decent human being.  And you don’t usually go for them”, said Arya bluntly.  Then she seemed to figure something out. 

“Oh, you thought it because – “

“Least said, soonest mended”, said Sansa, glancing at Jon as she quoted her mother.

********** 

When Sansa dropped him off, Jon felt a certain sense of relief that he could go back to his apartment and relax without any more drama.  And then he felt guilty at the thought of Sansa being unable to do the same thing as she contemplated her brother’s actions. 

“At least Arya seems to be with us”, said Jon, thinking back to her passionate defence of the sister she had fought with throughout childhood.  “And Bran and Rickon are hardly against us, are they?”

“No”, Sansa agreed.  The two younger Starks had said nothing against them, and had appeared excited at the prospect of a new addition to the family.  Rickon was relieved he wouldn’t be the baby.  Like Ned, Catelyn and Arya, they’d also both made positive noises when Sansa told them about the cottage they were interested in. 

“It meant a lot to me that your father stood up for us like that”, Jon told her.  “I don’t expect him to choose between you and Robb.  That isn’t in his nature.  But I do think he will try to bring Robb back to you.  That is what matters most to me in all of this.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?  If it wasn’t for me, you and Robb would be as close as ever.”  That was the one thing Jon hated himself for in all of this.  Sansa’s face seemed closed off when he said that, though. 

“No.  This is my life, and if Robb cannot accept my choices then it is on him.  And never, ever, blame yourself for Robb’s stubbornness.  He is a Stark, and that is our way.  I thank you for the selfless way in which you treat me.”

Jon shuffled around.  He felt the rise of guilt within as his feelings for Sansa bubbled near the surface.  Jon wasn’t someone to constantly display emotion, and he was grateful for that.  He couldn’t complicate things with Sansa.  Not now. 

Sansa’s phone pinged, and a look of relief passed over her face when she read her message. 

“What?”  Sansa handed over her phone, and he saw Jeyne’s name. 

_You Starks are all so bloody stubborn.  I’ll try and talk to him about it.  Since I’ve not had a chance to say it yet…….congratulations._

Perhaps things would work out after all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS - I LOVE writing Arya! :)


	9. Nine - Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon takes Sansa for a celebratory meal, and Sansa does some Christmas shopping.

In spite of Jeyne’s text message, the days that followed elicited no further contact from her or Robb.  Sansa felt a little dispirited but her mother had told her that Robb needed to get his act together. 

It had been strange to see her parents tell Robb off as if he were a child, but Sansa thought more than once that he was behaving like one. 

On Thursday, Sansa was just about to warm up some leftover lasagne her mother had given her the night before when Jon appeared at her door out of the blue.  Sansa buzzed him up and tried to remember if they’d made plans that she’d somehow managed to forget.  She doubted it, even if they now saw each other most days. 

“Did I forget something?” Sansa asked when she answered the door.  Jon smiled, and shook his head. 

He pulled a bottle out from behind his back.  “The vendor accepted my offer.  We’ve got the cottage!”

Sansa squealed and immediately jumped into Jon’s arms.  She loved that cottage and had sort of talked herself out of the possibility of them getting it in case they didn’t.  

A small part of her couldn’t quite believe that it would be hers.  Well, not hers exactly.  It would be Jon’s.  But she would get to live there.  That would be something at least. 

It would be a beautiful place to take a baby home to.   

“When did you find out?” Sansa asked, when she’d stopped hugging Jon for dear life. 

“Selyse called about an hour ago”, he replied.  He set the bottle down on the counter.  “I wanted to tell you in person.  But I stopped off at the grocery store on the way here.  I got non-alcoholic champagne.  You can’t drink and I’m driving, but I wanted us to celebrate.”

Jon unscrewed the cork and popped open the bottle of faux-champagne, pouring it into glasses Sansa quickly supplied him with. 

He raised his glass.  “To the cottage.”

“To the cottage!” Sansa clinked his glass with hers, and then took a sip.  It was fizzier than normal champagne for some reason, but the taste was similar. 

“What – how – did they agree a moving date?  Wow!  This is all happening pretty quickly.”

And it was.  It hadn’t been a week since they’d gone to see the cottage, and it was only the second property Selyse had shown them.

“Early January.  They haven’t given me a precise date, but a week or so after New Year’s.  That gives us around a month to start planning and pick up a few things.” 

Sansa smiled, but forced herself to remember that they weren’t really an ‘ _us_ ‘.  They were Jon and Sansa.  Two very separate people who happened to be moving in together, and who happened to be having a baby together. 

They were not a couple.  They wouldn’t be a _family_.      

“We should celebrate properly”, Sansa decided, trying to forget her thoughts about Jon.  “There’s a little Braavosi place on the corner that makes food just as appetising as the leftovers I was about to heat up.  Why don’t we go there for dinner?”

“That sounds good.  I was going to go over to Sam’s to watch the game, but I can text him to say I won’t be able to make it.”  Jon took out his phone.  Sansa started to protest, but he assured her it was no trouble. 

“We only ever half-watch it anyway.  Mostly we bet pretzels on who will score next.”

Sansa laughed, and grabbed her purse.  She downed the remainder of her faux champagne and followed Jon out of the apartment and down to the street. 

Despite her warm coat, Sansa shivered slightly as the cold December air hit her and Jon wrapped an arm around her in an attempt to keep her warm. 

As it was a weeknight, House of Black and White wasn’t too busy and they were easily able to get a table next to a roaring fire.  Sansa perused the menu and ordered a mineral water with ice to drink. 

Glancing at the fire and taking in the moody lighting, Sansa realized that this was the perfect place for a date.  She shook that thought from her mind. 

“This is Arya’s favourite place to come for a meal when she comes to visit me”, she told Jon. 

Sansa had been pleasantly surprised at her sister’s reaction to the news she was having Jon’s child.  The way Arya had teased Jon had irritated and calmed her in equal measure.  It was a reminder that not everything in her life was changing.  Some things would always remain the same.

 “I was chatting to her on Facebook last night”, said Jon.  “She was telling me all about some fencing club she’s started going to in White Harbour.  We used to do that all the time – chat online, I mean – and I need to get back to it.”

“I still say she prefers you to me”, Sansa pouted.  “But I don’t think she hates me as much as she used to.”

“I don’t think she ever hated you.  I’m not sure anyone sane could ever hate you, Sansa.  You just rubbed each other up the wrong way when you were children.  You were too different from one another.” 

There was some truth in that, Sansa mused as she gave the waiter her order. 

“I want to know more about the cottage”, she told Jon when the waiter had left. 

“I’ve asked Selyse to find out if it’s possible for us to go and make a second visit in the next week or so, to get measurements and things.  My apartment came mostly furnished, so we’ll need to get some new things – a sofa, kitchen table, stuff like that.  And I’ve given the landlord my notice.  I gave six weeks to cover myself, but it shouldn’t be as long as that.”

“I’ll need to tell Margaery”, said Sansa. 

“I think she’s got some prospects for my room, but it all depends on whether her cousin Megga decides to move here or not.  She came up a few months ago for a long weekend and loved it, and Marge said she was thinking about making the move permanently.  She’s an ER nurse and there’s always jobs going at Wintertown General.”

Of course, she’d need to wait until they actually crossed paths in person. 

Jon’s phone pinged, and he read the message before making a face. 

“Sam.  He says congratulations on the cottage and he reminds me that I’ve still to take you over to see him and Gilly.  We should do that soon.  Sometime before Christmas anyway.”

“I’d like that”, said Sansa.  For all that she felt a little like she would be imposing upon Jon’s friends, it would be useful to speak to someone around her own age about her pregnancy. 

Sansa had lost contact with most of her friends from high school, those she’d had at KLU had fallen by the wayside in the wake of her split with Joffrey, and she hadn’t really been in Gulltown long enough to forge lasting relationships. 

With the restaurant hardly being over-stretched, their food arrived quickly and Sansa found herself pleased she’d suggested this rather than munching away on the leftovers her mother had given her.

“I hope you’ll come shopping with me when I buy furniture and things for the cottage”, said Jon as he started eating.  “My taste is probably awful.  I’ll come away with mis-matched chairs and a kitchen table for too many or too few.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case”, Sansa replied.  She took a sip of her water. 

“It is.  Why do you think I wear so much black?  If it’s all the same colour, then it all matches.”  And Sansa had to laugh at that.  “The cottage wasn’t the only piece of good news I had today.”

“Oh?”

“Mormont called me into his office and said I’d made the first round of interviews for the job I applied for.  They’re the week before Christmas.  He said my application was well presented.  I’ll need to buy Alys a box of chocolates for that.  I had her proof-read it for me and she picked up a few things.” 

Sansa smiled.  She knew how much Jon wanted that job. 

“Let me know if you want someone to practice interview techniques with.  I might not know any of your legal terminology but I’m good with the shallow, superficial stuff.”

“That would be good, thanks.  I’m awful at interviews.”  Sansa laughed. 

“I’m sure you’re not.  At least, you’re far more personable now than you were in high school.  Then I would have said you were awful with new people and that doesn’t help in an interview situation.”

Jon snorted, and said he agreed.  “You were always bright and full of smiles – and you still are now, I didn’t mean you were just like that back then.  You’d have picked up a job a lot easier than me.  See?  Even now I’m not so good with the verbal.”

_No, but you’re still good with that mouth of yours_ , Sansa thought.  She shook her head, and told Jon he was better than he thought he was. 

“I meant what I said.  Let me know if you want any help.”  Jon had done so much for her of late, Sansa wanted to repay him. 

**********

On Saturday morning, Sansa rose early to meet her mother and brave the busy town centre in a Christmas shopping trip. 

Since she’d discovered her pregnancy, she’d changed yoga classes and now went to one specifically designed for expectant and new mothers.  It met on a Tuesday evening, and so Sansa was free for the day. 

She had kept the news of the cottage to herself since Thursday night, wanting to tell her parents in person. 

Sansa also wanted to tell Margaery in person, but she hadn’t seen her since; given the removal of a few items from their fridge, Sansa assumed Margaery had come and gone while she was asleep. 

Sansa was about to knock on the door when her father opened it and pulled her into a big hug.  “How are you?”

“Good”, Sansa smiled.  She hadn’t been sick for a couple of weeks and the small swell in her belly felt as if it were growing by the day. 

Her pregnancy had reached week number sixteen, and Sansa was starting to feel as if the worst was behind her.  Her confidence, knocked by her shock at falling pregnant and Robb’s stubbornness, had returned.

“Come in and have a seat.  Your mother is just about ready.”  Sansa followed her father through to the kitchen, where he’d clearly been sat having a coffee and croissant at the breakfast bar. 

She wrinkled up her nose at the smell of coffee and accepted his offer of a fruit juice. 

“Sansa!  I thought I heard your car in the driveway.”  Her mother swept into the kitchen and kissed Sansa’s cheek.  “You know, you’re really starting to glow.  I mean it.  Your hair and skin are shinier – not that they weren’t before, but it is even more obvious now.”

Sansa was touched by her mother’s support.  It seemed to have grown more pronounced when it became clear she lacked Robb’s.  It was almost as if Robb’s anger had given her mother a wake-up call of sorts.

“Thanks.  I’m glad you’re both here.  I have news – Jon got the cottage we went to see.  The vendor accepted his offer, and it’s his in around four weeks.”  Sansa bit her lip, hoping her mother’s support continued.  She knew she had her father’s. 

“I’m pleased to hear the offer was accepted”, said her mother diplomatically.  Sansa could tell she was still having difficulty dealing with her decision to move in with Jon. 

“I have pictures.”  Sansa reached into her purse and pulled out a copy of the brochure.  She placed it on the worktop, so both of her parents could see. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?  There’s a walled garden at the back, which will be great when the baby comes home.  We can sit outside in the summer with him or her.  And the living area is big enough that Jon and I will be able to have our own space.”

“You were lucky to get this place.”  Her father handed the brochure back to her as he spoke.  “It will be a good investment for Jon.”

“Of course.”  Sansa forced a smile across her face.  She hated to think, even far in the future, of someone else getting their hands on what had – in the space of less than forty-eight hours – become her home. 

“He’s talking about painting a couple of the rooms, and the nursery, but there isn’t any structural work that needs done.”

“Good.  I’d hate to think of you taking a new-born home to a building site”, said her mother.  Her parents exchanged a look that made Sansa nervous. 

“Speaking of Jon, your father and I have been talking and we think that you should bring him here for Christmas Day.”

“Oh”, Sansa whispered.  She knew Robb had asked Jon for Christmas dinner the year before, after his mother’s death, but he had already agreed to spend the day with Sam, Gilly and his godson.  Speaking of her elder brother……

“What about Robb?” she asked in a small voice.  She didn’t want what should be a joyous family occasion to turn into a massive argument. 

Sansa recalled the Christmas ten years before when Aunt Lysa and her family had come to visit for the festive season and the rows that had ensued when Rickon took to roughhousing with Robin. 

“Robb needs to accept what’s happening”, said her father firmly.  “At some point he will have to acknowledge you’re having a baby and that Jon is the father.  I’ve spoken to him since last Sunday and made it clear that he isn’t to speak to you, or of you, as he did then.”

Sansa thanked her father but couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. 

Neither of her parents knew as much as Robb did of Joffrey’s abuse and Harry’s infidelity.  It had clearly made him more over-protective of her than he had been in the past, and Sansa understood that. 

What she did not understand was his inability to see Jon as different from them. 

In Robb’s eyes, Jon had clearly taken advantage of her as Joff and Harry had.  Sansa wondered if it would take admitting she made the first move to make Robb see that wasn’t the case.  She hoped she wouldn’t have to. 

Aside from the mortification of it, Sansa guessed that Robb wanted to know as little about what had happened between her and Jon as possible.

Sansa and Robb had always had a good relationship, but she doubted _your best friend is fantastic at oral sex_ were words her brother wanted to hear from her lips. 

“Robb will need to get used to him being around if – as he says – Jon means to be a true father to your child”, her mother added.  “Birthday parties, family events…….Robb can’t shut him out forever.”

“He seems to be trying”, Sansa murmured. 

“Trying is very much a word I would use to describe your brother’s attitude of late.  But we must get a move on if we’re going to beat the midday rush.  See you later, Ned.”  Her father kissed them both goodbye, and shooed them out of the house to enjoy a day’s peace and quiet. 

Sansa guessed that in around fifteen minutes he would be sitting in front of the fire with the Saturday supplements for his favoured newspaper.

Sansa immediately suggested taking her car, which was smaller and therefore easier to park.

“Have you had a chance to do much Christmas shopping yet?” her mother asked when they left Sansa’s car in the long-stay car park in the centre of town. 

“Not really”, Sansa replied.  She hadn’t felt up to it early on in her pregnancy and the last couple of weeks had been more focused on finding somewhere to live before the baby was born.  “How about you?”

“Well, your father is always happy with a few practical things and a good bottle of whiskey so I usually pick up things as needed.  Rickon asked me to pay for him to go to some music festival in the Wolfswood next summer, so that was easy enough.  Lysa is a nightmare, as is Robin, as you well know.  Nothing will ever be good enough for them.” 

Sansa laughed at that.  Her mother had the same complaints every time they went Christmas shopping together.

“I always send Lysa a gift card.”  Sansa knew she couldn’t please her aunt and had given up trying to.  It was made worse by the kind words of thanks Uncle Jon always sent to whomever had given him a gift.  Aunt Lysa’s husband was both older and old-fashioned, a former professor of her father’s, and still wrote _thank you_ notes for the smallest present. 

Their first stop, as always, was the Wintertown book shop.  It was Bran’s favourite shop, and was run by her father’s old friend Howland Reed.  Bran was close to both of Howland’s children, and they could usually be counted upon to recommend something for him. 

“We’ve got the new edition of Barth’s collected works in”, Meera Reed told Sansa as she restocked the children’s section. 

“There are a number of essays included in the book on Barth himself and his writing.  He’s always been Bran’s favourite philosopher.  Maybe he’d like that?”

Sansa heaved a sigh of relief when Meera took her along to the shelf where the book was displayed and handed her a copy.  She also grabbed a coffee mug with _Barth knows Best_ written on it, figuring it would make a good novelty gift, and paid for her purchases while her mother perused a number of sections of the store. 

It wasn’t too busy, so Meera made Sansa a peppermint tea while she waited.  “Congratulations, by the way.  Bran told me about the baby.”

“Oh.  Thanks.”

Meera was hailed by a customer, and Sansa continued her wait.  Her mother appeared fifteen minutes later with a small pile.

“I’m going for books this year”, she told Meera when she rang up the purchases.  Her mother tended each year to give one sort of present in large numbers.  One year it was DVDs, another it was gift vouchers for a new spa that had opened nearby.  This Christmas appeared to be the year of the book.

“There we go”, her mother smiled, before asking after Meera’s parents. 

While they chatted, Sansa spotted a romance novel she guessed was for Lysa, something intellectual that could only be for Bran, a large hardback on the moons of Jupiter Sansa thought might be for Robin, and a biography on her father’s favourite _Direwolves_ player she knew he didn’t have.

All in all, it was quite a haul. 

The shops were busy and more than once Sansa found herself grateful for the extent of her mother’s elbows as she created a path for them through the masses.  And for her mother’s willingness to stop more often than they normally did for a rest. 

Although she had more energy now than a month ago, Sansa still found hours of shopping strenuous.  It left her wondering if perhaps she should have taken Jon’s advice and done it all online, as he planned.

In between their breaks for tea, coffee and cake, Sansa did manage to do most of her shopping – shopping her mother insisted on carrying for her.  Sansa felt a bit guilty, but had grown used to accepting help now.

She picked up a home spa set for Jeyne, a few records for Rickon, a new shirt for Robb……..she even found a DVD on fencing for Arya, recalling what Jon had said about her sister joining a club down in White Harbour.  Sansa also made a mental note to ask her sister how she was enjoying it. 

The one person Sansa had difficulty selecting a present for, however, was Jon himself.  She tried hard, but couldn’t recall ever actually buying him a proper Christmas present before.  Normally she handed him a bottle of something or a gift card for some coffee chain or other. 

He had done so much for her over the last couple of months, since she’d told him about the baby, and Sansa still wondered what she’d done to deserve such good luck given she had been the one to make the first move that night. 

Aside from anything else, Jon Snow had given her the best sex she’d experienced in her life.  What was she supposed to do, write a note on a gift card saying _Merry Christmas, and thanks for the orgasms_? 

Whatever she picked up, books, records, gift cards, DVDs, t-shirts………..they all seemed so impersonal and generic. 

Sansa wanted to get Jon something special but she’d never come across guidance on what to buy for the man you’re not with, even though you’re having his baby.  The man you would like to be with, but aren’t.    

Sansa hesitated, mouth open, when they had reached their final stop – a perfume shop where her mother wanted to pick out something for Jeyne.  Something stopped her from asking her mother’s advice.  It would only lead to questions Sansa didn’t want to answer. 

In the end, Sansa decided to see what she could find online.  There was a website she frequented for a company who created bespoke gifts, and she hoped it would give her some sort of inspiration.

**********

A little under a fortnight later, Sansa skipped out early on the staff function to celebrate the end of term. 

Her swell had turned into a small bump and she could no longer hide her pregnancy from her colleagues.  It did have its advantages, though.  Nobody called her a lightweight or tried to pressure her into staying when all she wanted to do was go back to her apartment and change into her pyjamas. 

She had always enjoyed the odd quiet night in, but over the last couple of months Sansa had begun to truly appreciate the peace she knew wouldn’t last.  And the last fortnight had been busy as she and Jon made plans for their move to the cottage.  Her father had offered to help them move, and both she and Jon were grateful. 

Jon told her that Sam had offered his assistance, but his small car could only take so much and her father’s help would cut down on the number of trips they had to make between their apartments and the cottage.

Back home and with her baggy pyjamas on, Sansa pulled out the materials for Jon’s Christmas present. 

After the day in which she had searched in vain for Jon’s gift, Sansa had decided to get creative. 

She’d ordered a beautifully embossed personalised silver photo album online, with Jon’s name on the front, and visited a photographer’s studio in the centre of Wintertown to get their first sonogram picture enlarged.  She attached that to the first page and then wrapped the album in festive-themed paper with snowmen, which Sansa had felt appropriate. 

She set the gift under the tree Jon had helped her put up the previous weekend, next to the rather more practical black cashmere sweater she’d picked up when she was meant to be looking for a t-shirt for Gendry. 

It was only around a week until Christmas, and Jon had accepted her offer to spend the day with the Starks. 

He had hesitated – something he admitted was down to Robb and a desire to prevent arguments that would spoil the day for everyone – but had eventually agreed to join them. 

Patting her bump, Sansa reflected that this time next year she would be frantically wrapping gifts for the baby.


	10. Ten - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finishes work for Christmas and goes furniture shopping with Sansa.

Jon heaved a sigh of relief as he shut down his office computer.  It was the Friday before Christmas, and although he would need to work a few days between then and New Year to compensate for the time he needed to take off to move into the cottage in January, he still felt a little like a schoolboy finishing up for the holidays. 

There was a knock at the door.  “Come in.”

Alys walked in wearing both a reindeer headband and a broad grin.  “That’s me finishing up now.  I just wanted to give you this.” 

She placed a bottle bag on his desk, and Jon was fairly sure it contained his favourite red wine.  That was what she’d bought him the other Christmases he’d worked at the firm. 

“Thank you.  And I have something for you.”  He handed Alys a gift bag that included a bottle of her preferred brand of Prosecco and the luxury chocolates he knew she liked. 

“Cheers.  I’m not back until after New Year.  Have a good one, boss.”

“You too”, Jon smiled.  “Say hi to your brothers for me.”

“Will do.”  Alys left, and Jon packed up the last of his things. 

Although he wouldn’t have any meetings until after New Year, he did have a mountain of paperwork to get through.  The office would be quiet, though, and he’d hopefully get quite a bit done without the phone constantly ringing or people dropping in to speak to him. 

Jon was tired and half-wished that he hadn’t arranged this dinner with Sam and Gilly for tonight.  But it had been postponed a couple of times for different reasons, and he hated to cancel on them again. 

It had been a long week.  Jon had gone through his interview for the Pro-Bono job on top of his normal workload.  Sansa had helped him go through some techniques and he hoped the effort he’d made had showed. 

He wouldn’t find out for another few weeks whether he’d got through to the second round of interviews, and so Jon put it out of his mind as he headed to his car.

**********

Jon had barely ten minutes to change before Sansa buzzed his intercom and he ran downstairs to meet her, chocolates for Gilly and Sam and gifts for the children in hand. 

Sansa had offered to drive them both so Jon could enjoy a beer or two.  It had taken some wheedling, but she’d finally got him to accept her offer. 

“That was quick”, Sansa commented when Jon joined her in the car. 

“It didn’t take me long to get ready after work.  You remember where Sam lives?” 

Sansa nodded.  “If I take a wrong turn, feel free to correct me.  How does it feel to be finished for Christmas?”

“Good”, Jon sighed.  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back when they hit a set of traffic lights. 

“The last couple of weeks have been far too busy.  But the office will be really quiet when I go in between Christmas and New Year.  How about you?  Enjoy your first full day of freedom?”

“I spent half the morning fielding increasingly desperate calls from Arya as she attempted to do her last-minute Christmas shopping”, Sansa snorted.  “She always leaves it late.  Though, to be fair, that’s quite often Christmas Eve.  I suppose she’s ahead of schedule this time around.”

Jon was looking forward to seeing Arya again at Christmas.  She and Gendry were coming up from White Harbour for a couple of nights, and although they’d chatted online Jon hadn’t seen her since the day he and Sansa had told the younger Starks about the baby. 

He hoped she would like the fencing book and accessories he’d bought her.

It felt a little strange, the thought of going to the Stark home for Christmas, but Jon wanted to give Sansa his support with Robb.  And perhaps, in the spirit of the festive season, the three of them might be able to work things out. 

Although Arya’s present had been easy to pick out, and Jon knew Catelyn Stark was always partial to a good home spa set, he’d had one hell of a time trying to decide what to buy for Sansa. 

He wanted something personal – after all, she was carrying his child – but not too personal, given they weren’t actually in a relationship.  Jon was unsure how to balance those things.

In the end, he’d settled on a new foot spa, a cooking book entitled _1001 Lemon Dishes and Cakes_ , and a charm bracelet he figured she could add to over the years. 

“Here we are”, Sansa cooed as she parked her car outside Sam and Gilly’s house.  She grabbed a bag from the backseat while Jon unbuckled his seatbelt. 

He had woken up a bit on the way over, and was excited to see Sam and Gilly again.  With everything he’d had going on over the last few weeks, he hadn’t been over as often as he would’ve liked.  And as often as he normally would. 

Jon guessed that would soon become the norm.  When the baby arrived, his time wouldn’t be his own.  But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. 

Sam answered the door and took their gifts, before ushering them into the sitting room where they were immediately set upon by Little Sam.  Jon lifted his godson up, and grinned. 

“How are we?  Excited for Christmas?”

“Yes!” he squealed in response.  “Daddy sent a letter to Santa from me!”

“Did he now?” Little Sam nodded.  “And what did you ask daddy to write?”

“He said I was a good boy this year, and I should get Power Rangers toys.”  Jon laughed at that.  His godson had been obsessed with the series ever since the Netflix reboot had aired.  Little Sam pointed at Sansa.  “Is that your friend?”

“Yeah.  This is my friend Sansa.”

“Nice to meet you”, Sansa smiled at him.  “Do I get a high-five?”

Little Sam seemed to consider it for a moment and then raised his small hand in Sansa’s direction.  She tapped his palm lightly with hers.  Jon felt a swooping sensation in his stomach. 

Sansa was going to be an amazing mother. 

“Mummy!” Jon turned to see Gilly come into the room with Aemon on her hip.  He put Little Sam down on the ground, and his godson ran over to her.  Little Sam wrapped himself around Gilly’s legs.

“We’re a bit more hyperactive at the moment, with Santa coming soon”, Gilly explained with a grin.  She looked down at her eldest son. 

“Did you show Jon and Sansa your decoration on the Christmas tree?”

“No.”  Little Sam left his mother and ran over to the tree, where he pulled off a small bauble.  He handed it out to Jon, who took it.  It was a green globe with his name on it in red glitter. 

“I made it at Nursery.  Miss Caswell helped all of us make them.”

“Wow, it looks amazing.  Isn’t it special to have your own decoration on the tree, just for you?” Sansa asked him.  Little Sam nodded shyly, and Jon ruffled his godson’s hair. 

**********

The following morning, Jon took advantage of the fact that it was Saturday to have a lie-in.  He’d arranged to meet Sansa after lunch to pick out a few things for the cottage.  They’d already placed orders for a number of the big-ticket items, but still had to choose some things for their communal living areas. 

And paint – they had still to choose paint. 

Today, they had decided to focus on some accessories for the living room.  The TV in his apartment would be moving with them, but the sofa had come with and they needed a new one.  They would also need some tables, and Sansa had insisted upon throws and cushions. 

Jon had decided to bow to her better judgement on this.  Sansa was far more creative and artistic than he was, and he trusted her. 

While he showered, Jon reflected on the previous evening at Sam and Gilly’s. 

Sansa and Gilly seemed to get on well.  They’d chatted away happily while Jon and Sam spoke about the _Twin_ _Peaks_ reboot, and on the drive back to his apartment she’d told Jon how helpful it had been to meet someone who had recently gone through what she was. 

Sort of.  Sansa had said that Catelyn tried to offer her own experience, but Rickon was eighteen now.

He felt a pang at the thought of how comfortable the four of them had been, eating and talking together.  Jon had been forced to remind himself more than once that he and Sansa weren’t together.  There would be no coupled-up nights in or out with Sam and Gilly. 

As much as he was looking forward to living with Sansa and as much as he knew suggesting they live together was the right thing to do for both them and the baby, Jon worried that his growing feelings for her would get in the way. 

Forcing himself to concentrate on the task at hand, Jon washed the shampoo from his hair, dried and dressed himself and then grabbed a quick sandwich before heading over to Sansa’s apartment. 

**********

Jon insisted on driving them both downtown to the shops. 

“You drove last night, my turn today”, he reasoned as he started the car.  Thankfully that was not something he would need to change.  He’d never owned a car that wasn’t horribly practical.  Robb and a few of their other friends had teased him for it over the years but it would spare him the task of finding another before the baby arrived. 

“I know we spoke about it last night on the way back, but I had fun at Sam and Gilly’s.  Truly.  I hope that, when we move into the cottage, they’ll come and visit us.  They seemed to like the brochure we showed them”, Sansa told him. 

Gilly had cooed over the same original features Sansa had when Jon first showed it to her and Sam had liked the look of the garden, which was a bit bigger than theirs.

“I hope so too.”  With Robb being the way he was, Jon was growing ever more grateful for Sam’s friendship.  “Where do you want to go first?”

“That home store on the main street – Forrester’s.  They should have most of what we’re looking for.  Have you decided on a colour scheme for the living room?” 

Jon snorted.  He and colour schemes were nothing something that went hand in hand.  He had no idea what matched and his mother used to say he must have some sort of colour blindness.  He’d told her once that was why he wore so much black – at least it matched.  “I haven’t decided on it.  I thought you might have some ideas?”

“It’ll be your cottage, Jon”, Sansa sighed.  “You can’t pick something just because I want it!”

“Yes, I can”, he told her firmly.  “Besides, I have no ideas.  Tell you what, why don’t we just go with cream for the walls and see what furniture we like the look of.  Does that sound like a good starting off point?”

“It does”, she agreed.  “If we go to the paint shop last, we could just get all of it at once.  If you don’t have anywhere to store it at the apartment, then I’m sure dad will be happy to look after it for us.  There’s a really good one on the outskirts of town – Fenn’s Finishing Touches.”

“Sounds like a plan, Stark”, he teased. 

Jon parked the car as close to the shops as he could, but they were only a few days away from Christmas and the area was bustling with last-minute shoppers.  He was still a little nervous about the day itself. 

“Sofa first”, said Sansa, cutting through his thoughts as they entered Forrester’s.  “Wow, it’s hot in here.”

Jon agreed – they were clearly over-compensating for the freezing Northern temperatures outside their doors.  He placed a hand on the small of Sansa’s back and guided her over to the section of the store they wanted and soon found himself surrounded by sofas of varying materials, colours, shapes and sizes.  It struck Jon again that he really had no idea what he was looking for. 

Sansa’s insistence he decide for himself came back to Jon.  They would decide on a sofa, and then work from there. 

Ignoring the loud Christmas music playing over the store’s speakers, Jon pointed at a cream-coloured sofa.  It was long – it looked as if it could seat up to four people – and size-wise seemed like it would fit into the new cottage.  He pointed it out to Sansa. 

“A cream sofa?  With a small child?  I’m not sure how practical that would be, Jon.” 

“So, something darker then?  Sorry – I did warn you I’d be terrible at this!”  Sansa chuckled. 

“I don’t think you’re as terrible as you think you are.  For starters, it’s a leather sofa.  That might be a good idea for wiping off marks left by our child.”

In the end, they agreed on a grey-ish coloured sofa.  Not leather, but it seemed sturdy and practical and was L-shaped.  Sansa told him that was a good thing and he decided to take her word for it.  As she hailed a shop assistant to put through their purchase and arrange delivery, Jon decided they _would_ take the matching chair. 

“Hi, I’m Mal Locke”, a young man told them.  “How can I help?”

“We’d like to take this sofa, please, and the chair that goes with it”, Jon told him.  He found he liked saying _we_.  _We’d_ like to do this.  _We’d_ like to do that. 

“Excellent.  If you’d like to follow me, we can get the details worked out.”  Jon and Sansa followed him to a desk set up with a computer and some filing cabinets.  “Okay, we’ll get the delivery details sorted out first and then cash through the sale.”

Jon gave him the particulars – and saw the relief in young Locke’s head when he said the sofa wouldn’t be needed until after New Year. 

“Unfortunately we stopped taking orders for pre-Christmas delivery weeks ago”, he explained.  “Still, the notice we have placed at the front door hasn’t deterred people from asking.”

Once they’d paid, Jon started to feel a little poorer for it.  He assumed that feeling would grow to be familiar to him.  Thankfully he hadn’t needed to pay over the odds for the cottage (his mortgage advisor had been happy about that) but he had a reasonable amount of furniture and so on to buy.  And he knew from Sam and Gilly that babies weren’t cheap. 

“What’s next?” Jon asked Sansa. 

“Throws and cushions.  And….where do you stand on art?  We could get some black and white canvas prints?  That might go well with the colour scheme.”

“Lead the way…….”

**********

An hour later, Jon insisted on dropping off the shopping bags at the car before they went any further.  They’d bought all manner of things he hadn’t been sure existed before this outing but Jon reasoned it would be worth it when they moved into the cottage and were surrounded by all their lovely new things.  And he wanted everything done as soon as possible so the cottage would be ready for the baby. 

Jon checked his watch.  “How about some hot chocolate before we go to the paint store?”

“That sounds good”, Sansa agreed heartily.  “You don’t have any other shopping to do – I mean, you’ve bought all your Christmas presents?”

“Bought _and_ wrapped”, Jon replied.  He felt a little smug about it. 

They made a path for themselves through the crowds and found themselves in front of a pretty looking café with a large sign out from which said _Mordane’s_.  Jon ushered Sansa inside and luckily a couple sitting next to the large window were leaving.  He left Sansa to get comfortable while he went to the till to place their order. 

“Two hot chocolates, please”, Jon asked the older woman behind the till.  He glanced over at their baking.  “And I’ll take two lemon cakes and a blueberry muffin as well, please.”

He knew how Sansa got with lemon cakes, and she’d been craving sweet treats a lot over the last week or so.  Last Christmas seemed very much a blur to Jon.  It had not been long after his mother’s death and although he’d agreed to spend the day at Sam and Gilly’s, his heart hadn’t truly felt in it. 

If that Jon had known in a mere twelve months he’d be spending the Saturday before Christmas drinking hot chocolate with Sansa Stark – and that said Sansa Stark would be carrying his child – he would never have believed it.  But, now it was here, Jon wouldn’t have changed it for the world. 

The server placed the hot chocolates and cakes on a tray and handed it to Jon.  “Two gold dragons, please.”

Jon paid, dropped a few silver stags in the charity collection tin next to the till, and went to return to Sansa.  He saw her gazing out of the window intently at something on the other side of the road.  “Alright?” Jon asked. 

Sansa turned her head to face him and smiled.  “Fine.  I just – I thought I saw someone I recognized.  It doesn’t – ooh, lemon cakes!  And you got me two.  Jon, you are a gem!”

Jon chuckled.  He saw that Sansa had taken off the large coat she’d been wearing, along with her hat, scarf and gloves.  Without the coat on, the bump in her belly – growing every day – was more noticeable.  Each time Jon saw her, he was fascinated by it; by the signs of his child’s growth. 

“Do I need to bring anything on Christmas Day?” Jon asked.  He started to take the whipped cream off the top of his hot chocolate. 

“You’ve met my mother enough times to know that she would take offence at you bringing food to a meal.  A cake or pie or a bottle of wine to thank her for hosting you is one thing.  Bringing a contribution to the meal is another.” 

“I’ll just bring her a gift, then”, Jon told her.  He knew from past experience which wine Catelyn preferred.  And there was a whiskey shop near his apartment.  He could pick up a bottle for Ned there.  “It’s scary to think that next Christmas we’ll have a baby to buy presents for.”

“It is”, she agreed. 

“But I find I’m quite looking forward to it.  I think my main concern is that I’ll be the over-generous parent who can’t seem to form the word _no_ ”, he admitted. 

“No fair!  I don’t want to be known as the mean parent!” Sansa wrinkled up her nose, and then grinned at him. 

Jon started in on his muffin to distract himself from the fact that he enjoyed planning for the future with Sansa far too much.  Again and again he had been forced to remind himself that they weren’t real.  Their child was, but _they_ were _not_.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Sansa’s phone pinging.  She checked the message and he saw a look of disappointment cross her face. 

“Uncle Benjen isn’t coming for Christmas”, she sighed.  “Dad says he just got off the phone with him.  Apparently we aren’t as exciting as his mysterious new girlfriend.  I’ll have to find out more about her when I go for Sunday lunch tomorrow.  All dad says is that she’s called Rowan and he met her up north somewhere.”

“Sorry.  I know you were looking forward to seeing him.”  Sansa had held off on telling her uncle about the baby because she wanted to do it in person.  It appeared now that it wouldn’t be possible.  “Perhaps you could arrange a video call with him for Christmas Day?  You could text Benjen directly – make it a surprise for your parents or something?”

“Yes!  Why is it that you always know what to do, Jon Snow?”  Jon shrugged.  He definitely did _not_ agree with that statement.  “I suppose I could show him my news rather than tell him it.”

Sansa patted her bump lightly, drawing Jon’s attention back to it.  “How is it at work now you’re showing?  I hope everyone is jumping over each other to be helpful.”

“Some of them.  Brienne seems to have tasked Podrick and Hyle with fetching and carrying for me.  They both came to me separately a few weeks ago and offered their services whenever I need anything substantial moved.  Pod was very sweet about it, and made it sound as if he was genuinely offering his services.  Hyle, on the other hand, made it clear he’d been asked to offer”, Sansa huffed. 

“I appreciate what Brienne’s doing, but at the same time I don’t want people doubting I can do my job just because I’m pregnant.”

“Then think of it as her being careful with health and safety.  It isn’t teaching she’s asking them to help you with, it’s doing things that could injure you and hurt the baby.  Besides, it won’t be for long.  You’re only going to be at work until Easter.  Have you decided yet how much maternity leave you want to take?”

Sansa shook her head.  “I have been going back and forward on it a bit.  I don’t need to decide immediately.  Brienne said they’d be flexible.”

“Mormont is due in the office a day or two next week.  I’m going to tell him then and let Alys in the loop when she comes back after New Year”, Jon told her.  “I’ll find out then what paternity leave I can take.  I might take a little extra time off over what I can get.  Or see if working from home is feasible for a week or so.”

“Really?”  Sansa smiled at him.  Jon nodded. 

“Really.”

**********

When they had finished their hot chocolate and cakes, Jon found himself back at the counter purchasing another couple of lemon cakes for Sansa to take home with her. 

“Thank you.  You spoil me far too much”, Sansa told him as she placed the precious cakes in her bag while they exited the shop.  “Ooh!”

“Watch!”  Jon grabbed hold of Sansa’s hand when she skidded on a piece of ice.  The temperature was starting to drop, and Jon was beginning to feel his motivation to buy paint diminish.  Maybe taking a break hadn’t been the best idea in the world. 

“Thanks”, Sansa chuckled.  She slipped her arm into Jon’s.  “Maybe it’s better if I hold onto you?”

“Yes.”  Jon sighed.  He hesitated a moment, and then plunged in.  They were friends, right?  And friends spent Saturday afternoons together.  “After that, I’m not entirely sure I can be bothered resuming our shopping.  What do you say we blow off going to the paint store and go to the cinema instead?”

“That sounds good, but we’re moving into the cottage in a few weeks”, Sansa reminded him. 

“We could go next Saturday.  A week isn’t a long time and we won’t be able to paint until we get the keys after New Year.  I doubt a paint shop will be as busy as a clothing store right after Christmas”, he reasoned.  “Besides…….I have it on good authority – Edd, who wanted to see the new superhero movie – that the cinema is showing back-to-back Christmas movies on almost all of their screens this weekend…..”

Sansa groaned and he sensed she was about to cave in.  “Fine.  But you’re buying our popcorn.  And some of those little jelly sweets.  I like them.”

“I think I can manage that”, Jon grinned.  “So, that’s a yes to an afternoon at the cinema then?”

“It is”, Sansa confirmed as they reached the car.  “To be honest, you had me at Christmas movies.”

Jon chuckled and opened the car door for her.  This was shaping up to be a great afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be set on Christmas Day! :)


	11. Eleven - Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa celebrates Christmas with Jon and her family.

Sansa felt excitement course through her as she got dressed on Christmas morning.  She may have reached the age of twenty-six but the magic of the day had yet to leave her.  Deciding to be festive, she dressed in a flowing emerald green dress which came to rest a little above her knees, thick black tights – they were in the North, after all – and her favourite black boots. 

Looking in the full-length mirror, Sansa could see her burgeoning bump.  It grew a little every day and she was dreading the morning she woke to discover her clothes didn’t fit any more.  As it was there were several outfits she had already pushed to the back of her closet as they wouldn’t fit again until after the baby’s birth. 

Sansa cradled her bump and felt a wide grin grow across her face.  It wouldn’t be that long until she reached twenty weeks and her next appointment with Doc. Luwin.  Time was passing by so quickly she couldn’t quite believe it.  At least they would be in the cottage soon.  Sansa wanted everything ready and settled there well before her due date.

A glance at the clock told her she would need to leave in a few moments to pick Jon up.  She’d offered so he could have a few whiskies with her father and wine with dinner.  She couldn’t drink but that shouldn’t stop him from doing so. 

Sansa bit her lip as she thought on Jon and the Saturday afternoon they’d shared.  She had enjoyed it far more than anticipated.  Shopping a few days before Christmas was always a nightmare, as those who – like Arya – always left their shopping to the last minute crowded out everyone else. 

But, it had been a good day out.  They’d managed to order everything they needed at Forrester’s bar some tables, but when Margaery heard that she insisted on Sansa taking the cute set they had in their shared apartment.  As Marge had pointed out, Sansa was the only one of the two of them to ever actually _use_ the tables. 

The best part of the day had been after the actual shopping, though.  First their stop for hot chocolate (and those amazing lemon cakes Sansa definitely wanted to taste again) and then the double bill of Christmas movies they saw at the cinema.  _It’s a Wonderful Life_ and _White Christmas_ were two of Sansa’s favourites. 

It had been late by the time they left the cinema and they’d ended up having Tyroshi food at a small bistro near the cinema complex.  Jon said his co-worker Grenn had recommended it once and Sansa had loved the cosy place, all decorated for Christmas. 

Sansa knew she’d have to get used to spending this much time with Jon – after all, they’d be living together in two or three weeks.  But, it was still hard for her to push aside the fluttering she felt inside when Jon allowed her to take his arm because it was icy, or shot her once of those soft smiles, or did one of the endless sweet and considerate things he seemed to do whenever they spent time together. 

Sighing as she reminded herself yet again that Jon wasn’t really hers, Sansa started to gather up her mountain of Christmas presents.  It would take a couple of trips down to her car to get everything loaded up.  The second trimester energy rush Sansa had been promised hadn’t materialized yet, and she hoped it would appear sooner rather than later. 

**********

Sansa suppressed a whine when Jon approached her car, all bundled up in his warm, winter clothing.  He’d insisted she call his phone when she was outside so she wouldn’t need to climb up to his second floor apartment for no reason.  And here he was, walking over to her car dressed in black jeans and boots and a dark grey woollen coat. 

If that wasn’t bad enough, he had the cutest dark grey beanie covering his beautiful curls.  Sansa recalled how soft those curls had been when she ran her fingers through them that night they’d spent together. 

“Sorry I took so long – I over-slept and I’ve been catching up ever since”, Jon apologized when he opened the car door.  “Oh, Merry Christmas, by the way.”

“Merry Christmas”, Sansa grinned.  Jon kissed her softly on the cheek and she was relieved he immediately went to load his pile of presents behind his seat, as it allowed her to hide the soft blush it caused. 

_Not yours.  Not yours.  Not yours._

“Ready?”

“Ready”, Jon told her when he’d sat down and buckled himself in.

“Thanks for that video call idea – Uncle Benjen finally confirmed things with me last night”, Sansa told him as she pulled out from her parking space.  “He’ll call tonight after we’ve eaten.  I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, given it’ll be post-wine, but at least I’ll be sober.  I told Bran because we’ll need a laptop for the call and I didn’t want to take mine over.  I knew he’d have his back with him for winter break.”

“How’s his course going?” Jon asked. 

“Good.  He has a new Computer Science lecturer this term – Professor Rivers – Bran says he finds his classes really informative.  I don’t know how he can stand the cold up at Whitetree, but Bran says it’s the best Computer Science program in Westeros so…..”  Sansa was immensely proud of her younger brother.  He had earned a full scholarship and been accepted into the small, intense course that had been his first choice. 

Bran was smarter than the rest of them put together in Sansa’s opinion, but she knew she was biased.  Sansa had an inkling she’d feel the same way about her child. 

“Is Robb still coming?” Jon asked.  As hard as he tried to keep his voice even, Sansa could sense the nerves there.  She’d been trying not to think about it herself.  Hopefully Jon and Robb wouldn’t argue over their turkey. 

“He is.  I don’t – I think we’re best not starting a conversation.  It’ll only lead to an argument and I want to avoid that.  Even if it involves us not saying a word to each other.  I hate that – “ Sansa stopped and took in a deep breath to still the tears she knew were forming.  She loved her big brother and wanted to spend a happy Christmas with him. 

“Sorry.”  Jon touched her arm softly.  “I – I miss him too, you know.”

**********

When they reached the Stark family home shortly after, the first people they saw were Arya and Gendry.  Arya pounced on Jon, giving him a tight hug the second he left the car, while Gendry tentatively hugged Sansa. 

“I won’t break, you know”, she joked.  Gendry was sweet.  Sansa still didn’t understand how he and Arya worked, but somehow they did. 

“We came to help you in with your presents.  Also, Arya’s already started on the eggnog.”  Sansa laughed and opened the car door for Gendry to carry in the massive pile of presents she’d brought with her. 

“Sansy!”  Arya came round and hugged her tightly.  Arya had always been a cuddly and affectionate drunk – all the Starks were.  She touched Sansa’s bump lightly. 

“Merry Christmas, nephew or niece!  You’ll be out here celebrating with us next year!  Wow, you’re starting to get bigger.”

“Arya!” Gendry exclaimed.  He almost bumped his head on the roof of Sansa’s car as he raised it to call back to her.  “She means that in a nice way.  Besides, like I said, eggnog.”

“Sadly not all of us can indulge in that particular tradition”, Sansa grumbled.  She followed Gendry, Arya and Jon into the house.  On the way in, she noted that neither Robb nor Jeyne’s cars were in the drive.  Either they’d taken a cab or they were yet to arrive. 

“Sansa!” As soon as she walked in the front door, her mother pounced and pulled her into a hug.  “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.  You’re positively glowing!  Come on, let’s get you settled in the family room…..”

Sansa seemed surprised.  “You don’t want any help?”

“Arya can give me a hand, and Jeyne will be here soon”, her mother told her dismissively.  She took Sansa’s coat from her. 

“But Arya’s had – “

“She’ll be fine.  Arya, get your sister some of that sparkling fruit juice I put in the fridge.”  Sansa did as she was told and took a seat next to Rickon.  Ever since she’d been a small girl, she’d always helped her mother prepare the family Christmas meal. 

She watched her father pour Jon a glass of whiskey while he arranged the presents they’d both brought under the tree.  Sansa also noticed that he handed a couple of bottle bags to her father and recalled their conversation about her mother taking offence at him bringing food to Christmas dinner.

“So, you look properly pregnant now”, Rickon told her with a grin. 

“None of you Starks have a filter?” Gendry muttered from the chair opposite. 

“Sadly, no”, Sansa laughed.  She ruffled her younger brother’s curls.

“Sans”, he groaned.  “I thought you having a baby would mean you wouldn’t treat me like one anymore.”

“You’ll always be my baby brother”, she reminded him fondly.  Arya handed her a champagne flute with a fizzy peach look.  “Thanks.”

Sansa listened to Rickon tell her all about his freshman term at Skagos, where he was studying Anthropology, and the wild locals he’d got to know.  Privately, Sansa had always thought her brother a little on the wild side himself.  She hoped he was finding time to study. 

She was halfway through her glass of fizz when she heard a shout.  “Anyone home?”  Sansa tensed at her elder brother’s voice.  Neither she nor Jon had seen him since the Sunday she’d told the rest of her siblings about the baby.  She hoped the fact it was Christmas would be enough to get them through everything without an argument. 

Sansa had hoped Jeyne might talk some sense into her brother – as she had promised to try – but her hopes seemed to have been misplaced. 

“In here!” Rickon shouted back. 

“He’s in the next room, not the next street”, Bran sighed.  Sansa looked up to see her brother enter the room.  Robb looked a little bashful but Jeyne was full of grins and holiday spirit.  She came straight over to Sansa.

“Wow, you look amazing!”  Jeyne hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear.  “I think you’ll like my Christmas present.  Well, part of it in any case.”

Sansa looked at her quizzically, but Jeyne said nothing further – only that she was off to help out in the kitchen.  As soon as Jeyne was out of the room, her coat and Robb’s in hand, her brother came over.  He cradled a whiskey, which he then took a large gulp of. 

“Could I speak to you for a minute, out in the hall?” Robb asked. 

“Speak to me or shout at me?”

Robb chuckled.  “I guess I deserve that.  Speak.”

Sansa nodded.  She glanced at Jon as she left the room, needing him to know that she was fine.  They were a team now, even if they weren’t together.  Jon smiled back tentatively and continued his conversation with her father. 

She closed the door behind them, not wanting everyone to overhear their conversation, and figured the music coming from the kitchen would drown out anything they could hear. 

“I’m sorry, Sans.  I’ve been a bit of an ass, haven’t I?  Jeyne said I should – “

“I’m not accepting your apology if you’re just looking to make nice with Jeyne.  Your relationship is your problem.  I want you to apologize because you know you’ve been a terrible friend and an unsupportive brother.  It won’t solve anything otherwise – just store up arguments for the future.”  She folded her arms and stared her brother down.

Sansa didn’t want to have this conversation more than once.  She wanted Robb to see he had been in the wrong, apologize and then they could all move on.

“No.  I shouldn’t have said it like that.  What I meant was that I – Jeyne made me see how much of an ass I was being.  I shouldn’t have said those things to you.  And I shouldn’t have hit Jon.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

“So, I guess I’m trying to say that I want to start over with this thing – with both of you.  You were right when you said Jon would be a good father.  I think even a part of me knew that the day you told me about the baby.  And, well, I can’t imagine not being there when my first niece or nephew is born.  They’re going to need someone fun around with such a broody father.”  Sansa had to smile at that. 

Robb threw open his arms and Sansa fell into them.  She assumed this was the Christmas gift Jeyne had spoken of and decided she owed her brother’s girlfriend a better gift than she’d got her.  Sansa nestled into Robb as she had done when she was a young girl and scared of the monsters that might be lurking in her closet. 

When she stepped back, Robb glanced down at her belly.  “I’ve already missed too much.”

“You going to be the next one to call me fat?  I still have a good four to five months to go, you know”, she jested.  She knew Arya and Rickon didn’t mean anything by it.

“Who called you fat?”  She was touched by the indignation in his tone. 

“Arya.  Rickon.”  Sansa shrugged.  “You know it isn’t just me you need to apologize to?”

Robb nodded.  “I should never have said any of those things.  It’s just – I wasn’t there for you with Joffrey.  If I’d visited more, paid more attention when we spoke or did a video call or whatever then maybe that asshole wouldn’t have got away with it for as long as he did.  And then I didn’t do enough with Harry either.  I had a go at him for flirting with other women a couple of times, but it wasn’t enough.  I didn’t try to find out if there was actually anything going on with another woman.  I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been.”

This echoed a lot of Sansa’s attempts to figure out her brother’s actions. 

“I didn’t deal with it very well.  I thought I’d failed you and Jon was the only person I trusted enough to talk to.  I didn’t even tell Jeyne all the things you told me about Joffrey and Harry.  And then, when he said he was the baby’s father, I just sort of saw red.  He knew what you’d been through and he got involved in a drunken hook-up with you?”

“Jon isn’t Joffrey or Harry and he never will be.  And he didn’t take advantage of me that night……he was sad and lonely.  He needed someone to comfort him”, Sansa told Robb.

Robb shivered.  “Maybe it was a good thing I wasn’t there, then?  If that was the kind of comfort he was after.”

“Stupid.  It hasn’t been easy for him.  He doesn’t complain and he’s looking after me probably better than he’s looking after himself right now.  Did dad tell you about the cottage?”  Robb nodded.  “It’s so beautiful, Robb.  A perfect place to bring a baby home to.”

“Jeyne and I are only staying in the Westerlands for a couple of nights after New Year’s.  If you like, we could help you both move.  And I can help you paint, though I warn you in advance that I’m not very good at it”, Robb laughed. 

Sansa ran her hand up and down Robb’s arm.  “Speak to him today?”

“I was going to anyway.”

“Good.  And Robb?  This doesn’t go any further than the two of us because I don’t think he remembers and it would be awkward for everyone if you brought it up, but I kissed him first.  I want you to know that.  After Joff and Harry, no man is ever going to take advantage of me again.  I’ll send him out to speak to you.”

Sansa sent Jon out to speak to her brother and spent the rest of the wait until the food was ready sitting on the sofa smiling.

********** 

She sat next to a relieved looking Jon at the dinner table.  Sansa knew Robb’s apology meant just as much to him as it did to her.  And it allowed her to simply enjoy the day and being around her family.  When she tucked into their final course – lemon meringue pie – Sansa was able to grin at the sight of Arya attaching herself to Gendry like glue; at Rickon’s attempt to hide how much wine he’d been taking; at her parents looking fondly at one another. 

Christmas was a time for family and Sansa decided hers was pretty great. 

“I’ll have to try out the recipe for this in that new book you got me”, Sansa told Jon once she’d finished eating her second slice.  “I’m sure there must be one.”

“Probably”, he agreed.  Sansa looked at his glazed expression and asked how much wine he’d had.  “Three glasses.  Maybe four.”

“Remember your designated driver is pregnant.  If you fall asleep drunk on the way home, you’ll be sleeping in my car.  I can’t lift anything as heavy as you now”, said Sansa sweetly. 

“Ouch”, grinned Robb from opposite them.  “You finally got that dig in at someone else.  Only took you an entire meal.”

“And why me?” Jon asked, a puzzled look on his face.  “I’ve never said you were fat.”

Sansa rolled her eyes.  “I was simply pointing out that I’ve already got two people to look after.”

“Yeah.”  She saw a softness enter into Jon’s eyes as he said that and felt a pang in her heart.  She wanted that softness to be about her as much as their child.  She wanted Jon for Christmas and knew she couldn’t have him. 

“We better get started with the tidying up”, her mother sighed.  Sansa went to stand and was immediately stopped.  “No, Sansa.  You have three brothers.  They can help me with the dishes.”

“Not Bran – Bran has to help me with an extra Christmas present.”  Sansa saw Rickon shoot Bran a strange growly look and decided her baby brother was close to being cut off from the wine. 

“Oh, alright.  Bran, you help Sansa.  Robb, Rickon – start moving these plates and serving dishes over to the side.  Come on, the sooner you start the sooner you finish.  Ah, the advantages of a double sink!  You boys can rinse the things off and then I’ll stack them neatly in the dishwasher.”

While Bran went off along the corridor to get his laptop, Sansa went back through to the family room.  She’d asked him to set everything up for them and a glance at the clock told her their call to Uncle Benjen would be in around half an hour. 

She noticed Jeyne hadn’t joined them; she wanted to thank her for interceding with Robb.  It was the best Christmas gift Sansa had ever received. 

“Where’s Jeyne?” she asked Arya. 

“She went to the bathroom.  Hey, Jon, you want another drink?”

“Um, no.  I’m fine”, she heard him say as she walked towards the door. 

“You aren’t even together and my sister has you _whipped_.”  Arya didn’t really have a filter when sober but it was non-existent after a few drinks.

Sansa walked upstairs and waited patiently for Jeyne.  When she came out of the bathroom, she seemed surprised to see Sansa. 

“Sorry – I wasn’t in too long was I?”  Jeyne laughed.  “One of my co-workers is almost at her due date.  She’s up at the bathroom from her desk very regularly.”

Sansa nodded in recognition.  “No, I just wanted to speak to you away from the hoards downstairs and say thank you.  Truly.  I don’t know what you said to Robb, but it worked.  Thank you.  I just – words cannot – “

“It’s fine.  He was being an ass about it.  Here.”  Jeyne sat at the top of the stairs and patted the space next to her.  “Your brother can be pig-headed when he wants to be.  He didn’t even tell me for the best part of a week that he and Jon had fought.  He didn’t tell me you were pregnant until a couple of days before that awful Sunday.”

“Wow.”  Robb had really kept it in.  Having listened to what he had to say earlier, Sansa saw how much pain her brother must’ve been in.  Not that it excused his attitude and behaviour.

“Yeah.  So, anyways, we had a few talks about it.  And some fights.  Robb was adamant that Jon had taken advantage and nothing I said could convince him otherwise.  Poor boy was in denial.  He feels guilty about the past and he was using it as an argument against what was happening in the present.  Men, huh?  Please have a girl!” 

Sansa laughed at that.  She touched her belly.  “I don’t know what we’re having.  I don’t even have a gut feeling about it.”

She realized too late she’d said _we_.  As if she and Jon were a _them_.

“So what changed Robb’s mind?”

“I like to think he just needed time to get used to things and come to the conclusion he was being an ass all by himself.  But the final thing was Saturday.”  Sansa frowned.  Maybe it had been them? 

She’d looked out the window while Jon bought their hot chocolates and seen a couple on the other side of the street who resembled Robb and Jeyne.  Feeling down about her brother’s attitude, she’d convinced herself it _wasn’t_ them. 

“We saw you leaving a coffee shop.  You skidded on the ice and grabbed onto Jon.  Both of you looked so happy, smiling away.  I asked Robb if you looked like someone being taken advantage of.  He grumbled, but by the time we got home he told me I was right.  We thought today would be a good day to make a fresh start.”

“Thanks”, Sansa smiled.  “It feels good to have my big brother back.  He’s an idiot at times, but I love him anyway.”

“Sansa?  This is me and you, Robb has nothing to do with it, is there – do you feel something for Jon?  I saw the way you looked at him on Saturday.  If you were strangers, I would’ve said you were a happy young couple”, said Jeyne.  Sansa bit her lip. 

“I may have had a bit of a crush on him.”

“Had?  Have?  And since when?” Jeyne asked shrewdly. 

Sansa shrugged.  “It isn’t a constant thing.  I just – he’s always been there and been sweet.  He’s attractive, anyone can see that, and it has been an on and off underlying thing since I was at school.  That night, we’d had a lot to drink and I sort of acted on it.  Don’t say anything.  Please?  We have to work together through this whole parenting thing and we’ll be living together soon.  I don’t want things to be awkward between us because I over-interpreted a night he simply needed some comfort.”

“Okay”, Jeyne agreed.  “Come on, we better get back downstairs.  Uncle Benjen’s call will be soon.”

“How did you know that?” Sansa pouted. 

Jeyne snorted.  “Arya isn’t the only one who’s had too much eggnog.  He texted Robb instead of Bran to confirm the arrangements.”

Sansa sighed.  “It was meant to be a surprise.”  She’d told her uncle they would be using Bran’s account for the call. 

“We won’t tell if you won’t.”

**********

The Sansa who dropped Jon off outside his apartment building a little before midnight was positively brimming with happiness.  It really had been an almost perfect day.  And, to top it all, Uncle Benjen promised he would come and visit after the baby was born.  He seemed excited about his first great-niece or nephew but said it did make him feel a bit old. 

“Here we are”, Sansa smiled at Jon.  She turned off the ignition and indicated the pile of presents in the back.  “Just as much to take back upstairs as you brought down earlier!”

Jon chuckled lightly at that.  “Seems like it.  Your present was my favourite, though.”

“You like my taste in sweaters that much?” Sansa grinned. 

“You know I meant the album.  Really, Sansa, it was……so thoughtful.  Far more thoughtful than the box of nutty chocolates I got from Rickon, who knows well enough I don’t eat them.  Surprisingly, your youngest brother _does_.”

“Are you still okay for paint shopping on Saturday?”

“Yes, but not too early”, said Jon.  “Robb is taking me out for a conciliatory beer on Friday night.  He said he wanted to make amends.”

“He told me that he’d spoken to you about Joffrey and Harry.  When all that shit went down.”  Sansa looked at her hands.  Jon grabbed her left and took it in his. 

“He did.  You know what I thought when he told me?”  Sansa shook her head.  “I thought that it takes someone very strong to walk away after that and be a good person.  You’re braver than you think, Sansa.  You’ve shown me that so many times over the last couple of months or so.”

“I was so afraid at times”, she sighed.  She hated how Joff and Harry had made her feel.

“When else can you be brave?  Listen, I should head up.  Text me to let me know you made it home safely.  The weather isn’t at its best at the moment.  And thanks again for everything – I had a great day.”

“Me too”, Sansa smiled.  He let go of her hand and then kissed her cheek softly, as he had done that morning. 

“Night, Sansa.”

“Goodnight.”

Sansa waited until she saw Jon disappear into his building before she re-started the car.  She felt more than a little overwhelmed. 


	12. Twelve - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon catches up with Robb over a beer, and then celebrates New Year's.

Jon carried the two bottles of beer over to a table in one of the quieter parts of Castle Black and waited for Robb.  It was Friday night, but falling as it did between Christmas and New Year’s it wasn’t as busy as Jon would’ve thought.

Although they’d spoken on Christmas Day, when Robb had apologized, Jon was still incredibly nervous about this night out.  They’d been to Castle Black – long since one of their favourite haunts – on countless occasions, but this time was different.

This time it was coming at the end of by far the longest period of time they’d ever gone without speaking. 

Their previous arguments had been ridiculous and lasted a few hours at most.  Jon recalled a dispute over which of them would be able to ask Val to their Senior Prom – a dispute which had ended after a couple of hours, when Sansa had returned home and informed them Val had already agreed to go with Jarl. 

Over the years, Jon had come to think of Robb as more of a brother than a best friend, and Robb’s reaction to the news of Sansa’s pregnancy (while, Jon reflected, it had been predictable given his protective nature) had hurt him badly.  Not because Robb had insinuated that Jon wasn’t good enough for Sansa – Jon definitely agreed with him on that score – but because Robb had assumed he’d taken advantage.

Jon thought back to Joffrey and Harry and how Robb had vented about them to him.  The idea that Robb had lumped him in with them had been what hurt most of all. 

But, Jon was keen to make amends.  Robb had apologized for his behaviour and promised never to repeat accusations he said part of him had never truly believed in the first place. 

As he took the executive decision to keep conversation light until they were used to being around each other again, Jon noticed Robb enter the bar.  He waved over and luckily caught Robb’s attention. 

“I got us a couple of bottles of the usual”, said Jon.  Robb sat down opposite him and Jon could tell he was just as nervous.  It settled Jon’s own nerves a little, knowing it meant as much to Robb as it did to him.  He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a steadying gulp. 

“Been waiting long?”

Jon shrugged.  “Five minutes, give or take?”

Conversation between the two of them had never been this awkward.  He asked Robb when he was due back at work. 

“The Monday after New Year’s.  Jeyne’s due back the same day.  You?”

“I was working today and yesterday.  I need some time off to move into the cottage and it’s been useful in getting caught up with a few things.”   _Like speaking to Mormont about the baby._  

His boss had seem surprised – he and Ned had worked together years before – but offered his congratulations and told Jon the firm would do all they could to support him.  Jon was entitled to two weeks Paternity Leave, and had decided to take a week of his own annual leave on top of that.

“Sansa said you’ve got through to the next stage of interviews for that job you applied for.”

Jon nodded.  “Yeah.  I can’t remember the exact date for the next one, but it isn’t too far away.  How about you?  Anything new?  I see Jeyne hasn’t grown tired of your smelly socks yet.”

That elicited a laugh from Robb. 

“It’s been good so far – the living together thing, I mean.  We’ve had a couple of arguments over the last month or so, but that was down to me being an ass over Sansa and the baby.”  Jon shifted nervously in his seat.  “But, yeah, apart from that it’s been pretty great.  I think I’m pretty close to getting there, you know, on the whole marriage thing?”

“That’s great”, Jon smiled.  From very early on in the relationship, he’d seen Robb and Jeyne getting engaged as simply a matter of time. 

“I’m not there yet, but I think in the next few months I will be.  And you?  Are you taking a break from that sort of thing until after the baby?”  Robb looked a little tentative as he asked that question, and Jon appreciated it. 

“I don’t have time for that sort of thing at the moment”, Jon replied honestly.  He didn’t add that the only woman who’d held his interest over the last few months was  _Sansa_.  It would make this conversation more awkward than it needed to be. 

“Besides, do you know any self-respecting women who would date a man having a child by someone else?  It’s one thing to be a single parent and another to be an expectant father.”

It struck Jon then that he was alright with being single for the moment.  He and Sansa weren’t in a relationship, but he had committed himself to looking after her and their child.  For Jon, that meant they were his priority.  Any date would come well down the list and it wouldn’t be fair on said date to do that. 

Jon found himself thinking of how awkward it would be to bring another woman into the home he’d be living in with Sansa.  He wondered if she thought the same thing about bringing another man home. 

Pushing those thoughts to the side, Jon pulled the brochure for the cottage out of his back pocket and spread it out on the table.  He’d brought it with him to show Robb in case the conversation floundered or needed re-directing. 

“This is the place I’ve bought”, he told him. 

“Wow”, Robb breathed as he flicked through it.  “Dad said it was a good investment.  It feels weird to think of you living in a proper house.  Like a grown-up.”

Jon snorted.  “It’s been a few years since we graduated, you’re living with Jeyne and thinking about getting engaged in a few months, and I’m going to be a father soon.  I think we can start admitting we’re grown-ups.”

“Sadly”, Robb sighed.  “Sometimes I wish I was Rickon’s age again – and then I remember how awful we were at eighteen.  Controlled by hormones and desperate to try everything the world had to offer all at once.”

“Those were the days…..”

“Hah!  I see you picked one with an en-suite!”  Jon furrowed his brow.  “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to share a bathroom with Sansa either.  Arya was fine, but Sansa always had dozens of different products I could never identify the purpose of.  Have you seen the bathroom she and Margaery share?  It’s like a beauty store.”

Jon finished off his bottle of beer and shrugged.  “I thought it would be good for us to have our own space.”

He wanted to make clear to Robb that he hadn’t invited Sansa to live with him to take advantage of her; he’d invited her to live with him to take care of her.  And the baby. 

“And the nursery?”

“We thought this room here”, said Jon, pointing at one of the pictures.  “It overlooks the garden.  It’d be south-facing but Sansa says there are blackout blinds you can get to block the sunlight during naptime.  You, uh, you want another beer?”

“My round”, said Robb.  He downed what was left in his bottle and went to the bar.  While Robb hailed the bartender, Jon glanced at his phone and saw he had a text from Sansa. 

_Good to hear everything went well with Mormont.  Three weeks is a long time away from the office, but it’ll be great for you to get some time with the baby.  Hope your beers with Robb go well.  What time do you want to go to Fenn’s tomorrow for paint?  Sansa.  PS – I spoke to dad on the phone earlier and he says we can store the paint there until you get the keys for the cottage._

Jon fired off a quick response.

_Yeah, I’m excited at the idea of being around when you both come home from the hospital.  I’d like more than three weeks but it isn’t really feasible.  Beers ok so far.  Fenn’s around 2?  I could pick you up so we’re only taking one car.  I have more space to pack in the paint tins.  I’ll need to thank your dad again tomorrow – he’s been amazing about everything.  Jon._

“Here you go.”  Robb set a bottle down next to Jon and gestured towards his phone.  “You getting a lot of calls to go out later?”

Jon laughed.  “Please.  I can’t even remember the last time I was out at a pub after midnight.  No, it was just a text from Sansa asking what time I’ll be free tomorrow.  We’re going to buy paint for the new place.”

“My offer from Christmas still stands”, Robb told him earnestly.  “I’d be up for helping you decorate.  So….I guess you and Sansa probably spend a lot more time together than you used to, right?”

Jon started to feel a little uncomfortable.  He didn’t know how to tell Robb that he and Sansa spoke, texted or met every day, and that seeing her name appear on his phone made him smile.  He didn’t know how to tell Robb that although he hadn’t acted on them, he had feelings for Sansa that bubbled beneath the surface whenever he was around her. 

He didn’t know how to tell Robb that he wished Sansa was more than simply the mother of his child.  He wished  _she_  was his too.

“We do.  In a way it’s been a good thing – it’ll be less of a culture shock for us when we move into the cottage.  But, there’s a lot of communal space so I’m sure it’ll work out.  So, you and Jeyne fly out on Sunday, right?”

Robb seemed to accept the change in subject.  “Yeah.  I’m not wild about staying with her mother, but we couldn’t find a reasonable excuse not to given they’ve got the space – and the hotel prices at this time of year are through the roof.”

Jon winced in understanding.  He’d met Jeyne’s family a couple of times and never really been struck on her mother.  Sybell Westerling had struck Jon as a bit of a snob, and that was him giving her the benefit of the doubt. 

“What are you doing for New Year’s?” Robb asked.

“Just heading over to Sam and Gilly’s for a few drinks”, he shrugged.  They’d made the plans ages ago, back when Jon and Robb had been living together and Robb agreed to go to the Westerlands with Jeyne.  Jon knew it wouldn’t be a late night.  The three of them would see in the New Year, have a few drinks, and then Gilly would set up the sofa bed for Jon to spend the night.

Jon’s phone pinged and he saw a response from Sansa.

_2 is fine.  See you then.  Sansa._

“Just Sansa about tomorrow”, said Jon.  “We hadn’t decided on a time.”

“You decorating more rooms than the nursery?”

“Uhm, I think the living room and Sansa’s room.  I guess I might paint mine.  It depends on whether I see anything I like at the shop tomorrow”, said Jon. 

“Cool.  Well, yeah, remember what I said about any help.”

“It’d be great”, nodded Jon, realizing that this was part of Robb’s attempt to make amends.  “We could spend a Saturday painting and then get some pizza after.”

**********

When Jon walked up to Sansa’s apartment building a little after nine thirty on New Year’s Eve, he could hear the sound of parties well underway in a number of the dwellings there.  The bottles of wine and champagne he’d brought with him clinked in the bag he carried and it struck Jon how much this evening could turn into the antithesis of what he’d planned. 

He’d had a call from Sam while out paint shopping in Fenn’s with Sansa, letting him know that one of Gilly’s sisters had been taken into hospital urgently with appendicitis and they needed to head north.  It had left Jon without plans for New Year’s and Sansa had immediately suggested he come over to the party Margaery was hosting in their apartment. 

Jon wasn’t entirely sure how good an idea that was, but it hadn’t stopped him from accepting.  

He buzzed on the intercom for Sansa and Margaery’s apartment and was immediately let in.  He walked up to find the place already close to full of people he didn’t recognize.  Part of him wondered if he would’ve been better off seeing if Grenn or Edd had any plans.

“Jon!”  He heard Sansa call his name and heaved a sigh of relief.  She came over and hugged him.  Jon looked down and saw the swell of her belly clear for all to see in the black dress she’d chosen for the occasion. 

It amazed Jon to see the changes in Sansa every time they saw each other.  Even now he found it beyond all wonder that  _his child_  grew in Sansa’s belly.  “I brought some wine.”

“I’ll put that in the fridge and then we’ll get you sorted out.  Marge made some cocktails – you know what, I think you’re probably better off with a glass of this pinot grigio.  Knowing Marge, the cocktails will be around three hundred per cent alcohol.”  Jon grinned at that and followed Sansa over to the fridge.  He took off his coat and asked Sansa where he should put it.

“Oh, I’ll store it in my room for you.  Here you are.  I’ll just be a moment.”  Sansa handed Jon a glass of the wine he’d brought and made off for her room.  While she was away, Jon looked around him and saw Margaery coming over with two men in tow.  Clearly she was making plans to enjoy the evening. 

“Jon!  Lovely to see you again!”  Margaery gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then slipped her arm in his.  “Sansa looking after you I take it?”

“Yeah, she is.  And good to see you, too.”

“Jon, this is Loras, my brother.  And this is his boyfriend Renly.  Boys, this is Jon – he’s Sansa’s baby daddy.”

Jon forced a smile onto this face as he shook their hands, relieved he hadn’t had wine in his mouth when Margaery spoke.  She’d always been blunt but, even so, Jon hadn’t anticipated being introduced to anyone as  _Sansa’s baby daddy_.  Though, he reflected, he essentially  _was_.

“Nice to meet you”, he told them.  “You visiting for long?”

“A few days”, replied Loras.  “We flew up this morning to surprise Marge.”

“You never let on – not even when I was home for Christmas”, Margaery pouted. 

“To be honest, we hadn’t decided then”, her brother admitted.  “But Renly got a marketing e-mail from a hotel chain he uses for work and they had some great offers on.  So, we decided to come and visit.”

“If nothing else, we’ve escaped the obligatory New Year’s Day dinner with Stannis”, breathed Renly.  He glanced at Jon.  “My elder brother.  Not exactly a party person.  New Year’s is for fun – which is why we picked the special offer that meant we could spend our break with Marge.”

“This one’s a flatterer”, Margaery told Jon as she rolled her eyes. 

Jon found himself smelling something citrusy and saw that Sansa had joined them.  “I see you’ve met Loras and Renly”, she smiled. 

“I have”, Jon confirmed.  He took a large drink of his wine.  “Have you been to Wintertown before?”

“We helped Marge move up here”, Renly told him, laughing at the memory of something.  “That was a good road trip.  We spent far too much time stopping off at places, of course.  You’re from here, though, aren’t you?  The same as Sansa?”

“I am.”

“Jon’s known Sansa’s brother since their first day at school”, cooed Margaery.  “Isn’t it sweet?”

Jon forced a smile.  He and Robb had stayed out relatively late having beers and catching up on Friday night, but Jon knew it would take a while for them to be as comfortable around each other as they had been before.   Robb’s comments had hurt and some cut to the core of Jon’s own self-doubting. 

It had meant so much to Sansa, though, that Robb’s attitude had changed and so Jon had said nothing of the time it would take him to adjust to being friends again.  He had missed Robb, though.  He had missed him more than he would ever have anticipated. 

“There’s Mya and Myranda!” Margaery exclaimed.  She dropped Jon’s arm and led Loras and Renly over to be introduced. 

“Marge started celebrating New Year’s a good few hours ago”, giggled Sansa.  “As did Loras and Renly.  The Tyrells have always been far more suited to partying than me.  We can speak to the girls later.  Thank the gods Marge turned the music off – it’s now possible to actually have a conversation.  Have you heard from Sam since they got to the hospital Gilly’s sister is in?”

Jon nodded, and allowed Sansa to lead him to a cosy armchair.  It was immediately vacated when the occupant saw Sansa approach, and Jon nestled himself on the edge of it. 

“There are advantages to being pregnant”, Sansa grinned.  “So, what was Sam’s news?  How is Gilly’s sister?”

“Well, they’ve operated.  Sam has a few more days off work and they’ll stay up there as long as they can.  Her sister has three kids of her own, but thankfully there are more of them nearby for when Sam and Gilly need to come back here.  Gilly has a pretty big family.  Oh, before I forget – I was chatting online with Arya earlier.  When I told her I was coming here tonight, she asked if we could video call her and Gendry after midnight.”

“Sounds good.  I wish they could’ve come up, but the bad weather this time of year is great for Gendry’s business.  Arya told me at Christmas that he’s been inundated with repairs from people driving over potholes and going off the road in the snow”, said Sansa. 

“Do you remember all those years I came over to yours for New Year’s?  For those parties your parents used to host?”  Jon recalled the year he and Robb had been sixteen, and Benjen had caught them trying to sneak into the liquor cabinet.  He’d taken pity on them and snuck them a couple of beers to keep them occupied. 

Sansa laughed out loud and buried her face in her hands.  “Gods, yes.  I was awful to you all, trying to act far more adult than I was.  Those were good times, though, looking back.  I hope they enjoy themselves at Riverrun.  With me being the only one in Wintertown, it seemed a good time for them to visit grandfather.  I can’t see Uncle Edmure staying in with him to count down to the New Year.”

Jon’s phone pinged.  He saw a text from Robb. 

_Happy New Year!  Greetings in advance!  Hope everyone has a great time tonight and a fabulous twelve months to come!  Robb Stark._

“Robb’s already had a few”, Jon commented as he handed his phone to Sansa.  She snorted. 

“He tells people he sends a text early because the networks are always jammed at midnight, but the truth is he doesn’t want my parents to realize he’ll be plastered by midnight and only capable of sending some incoherent ramblings about how wonderful everyone is.”

“I’ve always found it funny that he signs these messages with his full name”, said Jon.  He returned his phone to his pocket.  It would likely ping repeatedly throughout the night with increasingly incomprehensible messages from his friends. 

“That usually means he’s sent the message to everyone on his contacts list and he wants to make sure the people he barely knows from work can tell which Robb sent the message.  Would you like another drink?”  Sansa pointed at his wine glass, which was now empty. 

“I would, but I’ll get it myself.  How about you?”

“There’s some fizzy fruit juice in the fridge.  I’ll take some of that.  And bring both bottles – it’ll save you getting up again for a while.”

Jon returned a few moments later, drinks in hand.  He’d been waylaid by a friend of Margaery’s, who introduced herself as Aly, and asked him if he was here alone.  Thinking back to his conversation with Robb in the pub, Jon gestured in Sansa’s direction.  As soon as Aly saw Sansa’s baby bump she suddenly had somewhere else to be – leaving Jon more than a little relieved. 

“Here we are”, said Jon.  He handed Sansa her glass and set their bottles on the floor.  “Cheers!”

“Cheers!” Sansa echoed.  She took a few sips of the juice.  “Ah.  The fizz helps me pretend I’m having champagne.  Not that it bothers me much, the not drinking thing, but times like tonight and at Christmas…..it feels a little weird being the only one who isn’t.”

Jon glanced down at his own glass of white wine and felt a little guilty.  Sometimes he was reminded that Sansa’s sacrifices for the baby were very different from his. 

“You’ll have a glass of champagne in hand this time next year”, he promised her.  Jon thought ahead wildly, contemplating a night they could perhaps spend with Sam and Gilly.  They could put the children to bed and then have a few drinks themselves. 

Then he had to remind himself that Sansa might have other plans.  They weren’t a couple who made plans together. 

Jon spent the rest of the night with Sansa.  In the end, he felt everything had actually worked out for the best.  The rest of the guests had sampled Margaery’s punch, which – as Sansa had guessed – was filled with alcohol several times over.  Sansa was the only sober one there.  Jon was, himself, somewhere between pleasantly tipsy and comfortably drunk. 

**********

“Two minutes to go!” Margaery shouted a while later.  “I want to see all of you with a glass of wine and man or woman of choice in your hand to ring in the forthcoming year!”

“She’s serious?” said Jon as he watched the other guests scramble drunkenly about. 

“Very”, confirmed Sansa.  “And, uhm, well – since I doubt anyone wants to kiss a pregnant woman they’re not with, and….”

Jon felt a flush grow up the side of his face, matching the one he could see on Sansa’s.  She looked mortified at having to ask him this.  “Is that your way of asking to be my New Year kiss, Sansa Stark?”

Sansa gave him a shove.  Jon had to work to keep his balance.  He didn’t want to end up on the floor. 

“The answer is yes, by the way”, he told her softly.  “I don’t want strange men anywhere near my unborn child.”

“Getting territorial are we, Snow?”  Sansa grinned. 

Before he could do more than nod in response, he heard Margaery shout out again.  He spotted her on the other side of the room, holding hands with a man who had a dopey, admiring look on his face. 

“Ten….nine…..eight……seven…..six…..five…..four…..three……two….”

Jon smiled softly at Sansa and leaned in to press his lips to hers.  He felt her mouth curve in a smile against him.  Jon held in the whimper that threatened to escape him and somehow managed to resist the temptation to swipe his tongue along Sansa’s bottom lip. 

It was a soft, light pressing of lips but it meant everything to Jon.  Every twinge he’d felt, every flutter in his heart since their night together, Jon poured it all into that kiss.  She tasted fruity, like the fizzy juice she’d been drinking all evening, and Jon felt something pull deep inside.  He wanted to stay like that with Sansa forever, but knew he could not.

He pulled away and gave her what he knew was probably a dopey look.  “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year”, Sansa replied quietly. 

Jon was saved from having to make what he anticipated would’ve been awkward conversation by his phone pinging.  He looked at it, expecting to see more Happy New Year texts, when he saw the latest one was from Gendry.  Jon frowned and opened the message.  He read it, and then laughed, before handing his phone over to Sansa.

_Happy New Year and all that jazz.  Can we do the video call sooner rather than later?  Hot Pie’s had Arya on tequila shots for the last half hour and I’m not sure how much longer she’ll be able to speak in complete sentences.  Gendry._

“I’ll go and boot up my laptop”, Sansa sighed.  She had a smile on her face, though.  “We’re better off calling them from my bedroom.  We won’t be able to hear a word they’re saying over all this.”

Sansa gestured to the room, where various couples had clearly decided to see how long they could make their New Year’s kiss last and others were talking animatedly on their phones and passing on wishes for the coming year. 

“Agreed.”

Jon nervously followed Sansa into her bedroom.  He tried to rid himself of the butterflies he felt in his belly.  For all the wine he’d had to drink – and he held both a full glass and the second bottle in his hand – Jon had sobered almost entirely the moment his lips had touched Sansa’s. 

It was a very real reminder of what he wanted, but could not have.

He distracted himself by looking around her room.  He had visited her apartment at least once a week since that day they’d shared lunch at Hobb’s, but Jon had never seen the inside of Sansa’s bedroom.  That door was one closed to Jon.  Sansa – or the landlord, Jon wasn’t sure if she and Margaery had re-decorated after moving in – had painted the room lilac.  The furniture was white, giving light to the room.

Sansa set her laptop on a desk she’d decorated with fairy lights and gestured to the seat on the other side of the room at her dressing table. 

“Bring it over.” 

In a matter of moments he was sitting next to Sansa, trying not to inhale the scent of her flowery perfume, waiting for Arya to answer the video call Sansa had placed. 

“Sansy, Sansy, Sans!”  Jon had to stop himself from laughing at Arya’s greeting.  She seemed very merry and was sitting in Gendry’s lap.  “Happy New Year!  Whoop!  Whoop!”

“Happy New Year, Wintertown people”, Gendry added.  His eyes were heavily lidded, and Jon wondered how long the call would actually take.  Gendry raised a tequila shot in the direction of the camera. 

“Happy New Year.  You all seem to be having fun”, smiled Sansa.  She waved at Arya. 

“Hot Pie brought  _tequila_ ”, Arya informed them, folding her arms.

“So we can see”, said Jon.  He felt a bit sorry for Sansa; he’d worked a few bar shifts during the summer while a student and knew first-hand how irritating it could be dealing with drunk people when you were sober. 

“Where is Hot Pie?” Arya seemed to be looking around wildly.

“He went to go puke”, said Gendry.  “Hopefully he won’t leave a mess.  Guys, I held out on the tequila until after midnight and then I figured I might as well join them.”

Jon watched, bemused, as Arya nestled closer and closer into Gendry.  Arya had always made for an amusing drunk. 

“How is my future niece or nephew?” Arya asked.  “I can’t decide which I want – could you have one of each?”

“One is quite enough to be going on with”, Sansa laughed.  She patted her growing belly softly and Jon felt a surge of affection course through him.  “We have our next appointment with Doc. Luwin soon.”

“Ooohhhh, Gendry!  Tell them about the new store!  Tell them!  Tell them!”

“There’s a new baby store opened opposite the garage”, said Gendry.  “Arya wants to buy half of it for your little nugget.”

“Nugget?” Jon repeated. 

“Nugget.  I like that”, said Sansa.  “And I’ll take whatever presents you’re offering.”

“I wanted to buy Jon a t-shirt there, but Gendry wouldn’t let me”, Arya pouted.  “It was even black!  It said – what did it say, Gendry, I can’t remember.”

Arya dissolved into laughter.  “It doesn’t matter”, said Gendry.

“Lommy!  You’re finally here!”  Arya shouted to someone off camera.  “Lommy, come say hi to my sister and Jon.”

Lommy – a young man who looked to be around Arya’s age – came into view and waved. 

“Lommy, that’s my sister Sansa.  She’s pregnant.  And that guy is Jon.  He’s best friends with my brother Robb, and he’s like my big brother too.”  Jon felt touched by that.  “Jon’s the one who knocked Sansa up.”

Jon found himself wishing drunk Arya had a filter. 

“Hi, Lommy.”  Sansa had what Jon assumed to be a fake smile plastered on her face as she waved.  “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year.  Arya, where’s Hot Pie?  He was meant to be bringing a bottle of tequila for me?”

Arya lifted a shot glass and downed the contents.  “Tequila!”

“Maybe we should sign off on this now”, suggested Sansa.  “Text me when – actually, you know what, never mind.  I’ll text you in the morning.  Or, afternoon.  Yeah, I think that would be best.  Drink lots of water and go to bed soon.  To sleep!”

“Gendry’s not getting any sleep tonight!” Arya giggled as she waggled her eyebrows suggestively. 

“We’re disconnecting this call now.  Love you!” Jon told her.  When Sansa had closed the laptop, Jon turned to her.  “Your sister’s filter is non-existent when she’s drunk.”

Sansa snorted.  “Please, you’ve known Arya her entire life.  It barely exists when she’s sober.”

Jon moved the chair back over to Sansa’s dressing table and turned round to face her.  There was so much he wanted to say and couldn’t.  “Thank you for inviting me.  I’ve had a great time.  I should get moving, though.  I have a load of boxes in my apartment and I can’t really afford to lose a day’s packing to a hangover.”

“Yeah, I should be getting started on that myself soon”, Sansa agreed.  She looked around the room.  “I’ve been happy here, but it’s time to move on to the next chapter.  Now that we’re past midnight we can say that our baby is arriving  _this_  year.”

It made it seem all that more immediate.  And Jon felt his smile grow at the thought of their coming child.

**********

A few days after New Year’s, Jon spent his lunch break at Selyse’s office downtown filling out forms.  He left her office with a new set of keys in his pocket; the keys to his very first home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uhm, yeah, I love writing drunk Arya!


	13. Thirteen - Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Jon move into the cottage.

Sansa was packing up some old CDs when the intercom buzzed.  Surprised at the early hour – she had not long finished cleaning up after breakfast – she answered it.

“Hello?”

“Only me.  Can I come up?”  Sansa buzzed Jeyne into the building.  Robb had promised to drop Jeyne off on his way over to the cottage, but she hadn’t anticipated him doing so for at least another hour or two. 

“Morning”, Sansa smiled when she opened the door to Jeyne.  She walked in past Sansa, and looked at the mass of boxes that lay throughout the kitchen and living area. 

“Wow!  You’ve got a lot of boxes”, Jeyne grinned.  “Margaery not around?”

Sansa shook her head.  They’d had their final dinner together on Thursday – Margaery had treated her at House of Black and White – and Marge had left the following morning.  “She’s flown down to Highgarden to help Megga move up.  They’ve hired a moving firm to do most of it, but Megga didn’t want to have to drive all the way up here on her own so Marge is going to split it with her.”

Jeyne shook off her winter coat and went to put the kettle on.  “I know I’m early, but Robb wanted to get a start on helping Jon with the painting.  He – he feels bad about how he was with both of you and he wants to make amends.”

“I know.”  Sansa handed Jeyne the coffee jars.  She thought on what Jon had said after he’d been out for beers with Robb just after Christmas.  It meant a lot to her that both Jon and Robb were making such an effort to reconcile.  Jon might not have spoken to her about it much, but Sansa knew he’d been hurt by what Robb had said the day they’d told him about the baby and that awful Sunday they’d told the rest of her siblings.

“Anyway, how goes the packing?”

“Good”, Sansa told her happily.  “I’ve got almost all of it done, actually.  The benefits of being a teacher – school holidays!”

Since New Year’s, Sansa had spent most of her time packing away her belongings into a seemingly never-ending pile of boxes, and her clothes into her own suitcases and a couple she’d borrowed from her parents.  She hadn’t realized until she got going just how much stuff she’d accumulated. 

Packing had kept her mind occupied.  It had kept it from straying to New Year’s and that midnight kiss with Jon.  It had been nothing much to look at, the lightest brushing of lips to fulfil Marge’s desire to have everyone begin their year with a kiss, but Sansa had felt a tingle all the way down her spine and then on to the tips of her toes. 

She’d wanted to raise her hand and run her fingers through Jon’s curls.  She’d wanted to deepen the kiss and explore his mouth until the need to breathe forced them apart.  She hadn’t acted on that want, though.  Sansa hadn’t been brave enough and she knew it was for the best.  They would be living together, her and Jon, and it would be awkward if she let her feelings for him get in the way. 

“To be honest, I’m actually relieved that Robb was so keen to get over there early”, Sansa sighed.  Jon was taking on far too much himself.  He’d been over at the cottage after work on Thursday and all day Friday (having taken the day off) painting the living room and kitchen so they could start the moving in process today. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah, the furniture is being delivered today and it’ll be good for Jon to have someone to help him.  I’m hardly capable of it and I worry about dad doing too much heavy lifting.”

Jeyne laughed.  “Ned’s hardly old.  He’s still young-ish.  I take it he’ll be going over this morning?”

“Around midday.  After that drive back from the Riverlands yesterday I wanted him to have a lie in.  Thanks.”  Sansa took a warm mug of decaf from Jeyne.  “So, I thought we could finish packing up a few more things, load up my car and then head over to the cottage?”

“Sounds like a plan”, Jeyne grinned. 

**********

A little under an hour later, Sansa pulled up outside the cottage and parked her car behind Jon’s.  She hadn’t been here since their second visit after Jon’s offer had been accepted.  Selyse had arranged for them to have a second viewing to take measurements.  Looking at it now, Sansa couldn’t quite believe this beautiful cottage would be her new home. 

“It looks amazing”, Jeyne told her as they got out of the car.  She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up at the cottage. 

“Wait until you see inside”, Sansa replied.  She went to start unpacking the car, but Jeyne swiftly stopped her. 

“No.  As I said back at the apartment, no heavy lifting!”  Sansa rolled her eyes but allowed Jeyne to take a large box while she carried a small bag inside.  “Hello?!”

Sansa looked up the stairs to see Robb come out of one of the bedrooms.  He had paint in his hair, but had clearly made the sensible decision to wear old, tatty clothes. 

“I’ll bring coffee up soon”, she promised her brother.  “How is it going?”

“Good.  Jon started even earlier than I’d thought, so we’re not far off finishing your room.”

The plan was to finish the painting today and move the last of the furniture in tomorrow.  Sansa knew Sam had offered to help Jon move the boxes from his apartment, and Sansa had asked her father to help with hers.  They would move some of the things in today, though. 

Sansa was stunned when she walked in the living room to see it gleaming in a bright and beautiful shade of cream.  Jon had painted it the day before and she’d made sure when they went to Fenn’s that they bought a water-based paint that dried quickly.  It had cost a little more than some of the other types, but Jon had agreed it would make things easier. 

“I guess if Jon ever gets tired of practicing law, then he could turn his hand to being a painter/decorator”, commented Jeyne.  “Now I’m worried Robb will end up messing it all up.  Where do you want this box?”

“In the kitchen.  It’s just through there”, Sansa replied, gesturing to the other end of the room.  She glanced at her watch and saw that the sofa delivery from Forrester’s wouldn’t be too long. 

She took the new kettle she and Jon had picked out (raspberry to go with the black, white and red theme in the kitchen) and removed it from the packaging.  It had been strange, going with Jon to buy things like plates and cutlery, but at the same time Sansa couldn’t help but feel this was the way things were always meant to be.

Focusing on the task at hand – and not on her errant thoughts of Jon – Sansa set the kettle on to boil some water to clean it out, and then pulled out the set of _Harry Potter_ mugs Jon had insisted on buying.  She smiled; she’d already mentally claimed the McGonagall one for herself. 

Once the coffee was ready, Sansa took it upstairs to Jon and Robb while Jeyne unpacked the car.  She could hear voices coming from the larger of the two bedrooms they weren’t using as a nursery, the one with the en-suite, and was puzzled.  Hadn’t Robb said they were painting her room?  Either they had finished it quickly or Jon had given her the room that should, by all good reasoning and fairness, be his. 

Sansa walked in and saw from the duck-egg blue paint that it was the latter. 

“Coffee”, she said, smiling both at the sight of the almost-finished room and at the sight of Jon.  Sansa quickly decided it should be illegal for him to look that good in an old pair of torn jeans and a ratty, paint-splattered t-shirt, his hair scraped back and lightened in places by paint. 

He’d need a good, long shower after he was finished and Sansa pushed away thoughts of how much she wanted to join him in it. 

“Jon, this should have been your room”, she told him as he took the Hagrid mug from her.  “It’s the largest – and this is _your_ house.”

Sansa thought of all the amazing things Jon had done for her since the day she’d told him about the baby.  Sometimes, she thought he was taking on too much, going out of his way too much, sacrificing too much. 

“This one has the en-suite.  I thought you should have a bathroom of your own”, he told her.  Jon looked around the room.  “What do you think?  We’ve only got half of the wall at the window to do, and then we’re done in here.  That just leaves my room, but it shouldn’t take too long.”

They had decided to leave decorating the nursery for now.  After all, Sansa wasn’t even at twenty weeks yet.  They had time. 

“Oh, before I forget – I thought when the upstairs furniture arrives, we could put it in the nursery until the paint dries?  Apart from the beds, a lot of it is flat-pack so it won’t take up too much space”, Jon added.  “But give me a shout when the deliveries come.”

“Will do.  And, amazing.  It all looks amazing”, Sansa said honestly.  She remembered moving into the apartment with Margaery; they hadn’t done any decorating at all, had simply unpacked their things and got on with things.  Her parents still lived in the house they’d moved into after their wedding, before Robb was even born.  Sansa had never been involved in such a production before. 

“I’ve got some beers in the car for later and Jeyne’s going to phone in a pizza order for us once we’re done tonight”, said Robb.  Sansa smiled at her brother.  It meant more to her than she could put into words how supportive he was being now.  She just wished he’d been like that from the start. 

**********

Jon had got so much painting done the day before that when her father turned up a little after midday, there wasn’t really anything for him to do.  Robb and Jon had finished painting the bedrooms and were simply waiting for the paint to dry. 

“That means you can take a break and have some of the sandwiches I brought”, her mother told them.  She set them out on the kitchen counter and went to fill the kettle. 

“The kitchen table and chairs aren’t due to be delivered until late this afternoon”, Jon said apologetically.  As her mother assured him nobody minded, Sansa thought again about how attractive Jon was in his painting clothes.  When he and Robb had come downstairs after they’d finished painting, he’d had the most adorable smear of grey paint across his cheek.

Sansa shook herself.  She’d have to stop thinking of Jon like that; it would make living together tortuous. 

But, as she watched him eat a sandwich, his tongue darting out of his mouth to catch a drop of mayonnaise, Sansa couldn’t help herself.  She thought of the little she could remember of the night they’d spent together and how it felt when his tongue reached her clit.  She thought of his tongue on her hard nipples. 

Gods, she wanted him right now. 

“Sansa?  Sansa?  Westeros calling Sansa?”  Sansa jumped to see Jeyne trying to capture her attention. 

“Sorry”, she apologized.  “I was thinking, uhm, about the deliveries this afternoon?”

Jeyne seemed to accept her explanation.  “I was just wondering if you’d decided what kind of pizza you want later.”

“Oh.  A vegetarian.  No peppers, though.  They’ve started giving me heartburn.”  Slowly but surely, Sansa had started adapting to her new dietary requirements.  She was relieved she hadn’t had any odd cravings as yet, only an increased desire for sweet things – like lemon cakes. 

“With me it was Yunkish food”, her mother told her fondly.  Sansa saw her smile grow.  “I used to love it when I was a student, but as soon as I fell pregnant with Robb I couldn’t eat it without horrible indigestion and heartburn.”

Sansa had developed a new sort of closeness with her mother of late as she recalled her own pregnancies.  She hoped that she would have as good a relationship with her own child.  She rubbed her belly affectionately and thought of her New Year’s video call with Arya.  _Little nugget._   At some point over the last few days, she’d started to think of the baby in those terms herself. 

There was a knock at the door, and Sansa followed a puzzled looking Jon into the hallway.  Their bedroom furniture had arrived an hour ahead of schedule. 

“Harclay’s delivery”, the tall man at the door told them.  He handed a clipboard over to Jon, who scanned it, nodded and told the man he could begin unloading. 

“The room furthest to the left at the top of the stairs”, Jon told the man when he returned with a colleague and either her bed or Jon’s. 

Jon put his hand on the small of her back and led her towards the living room.  “If someone drops something, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Sansa felt the touch of his hand long after he had gone upstairs to make sure all of the furniture was deposited in the correct room and didn’t cause any damage. 

**********

When she woke the following morning, tired after the hustle and bustle of a Saturday focused on getting the cottage set up, it struck Sansa that she had passed her last night in the apartment she’d shared with Margaery since moving back to Wintertown following her year at teacher-training college in Gulltown. 

All the painting had been done and the furniture delivered.  While Sansa organized the kitchen things and the accessories they’d bought for the living room, Jon, Robb and her father had spent the afternoon assembling the flat-pack bedroom furniture before they all collapsed on the new sofa, surrounded by pizza boxes. 

The cottage was all set up now, and all that was left to do was move the last of her and Jon’s boxes over there.  When she went to sleep that evening, she would climb into her new bed, covered by her new bedding, in her new bedroom. 

The day she and Jon moved in together had finally arrived. 

Sansa took her final shower in the apartment and dressed sensibly in a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt-dress.  Her jeans no longer fitted her; she’d have to buy maternity ones soon.  She made herself some toast for breakfast, and had just finished cleaning up afterwards when Robb and her father arrived. 

“Jeyne wasn’t exaggerating when she said you had a lot of boxes”, Robb commented once he’d hugged Sansa in greeting. 

“Not so much, no”, Sansa grinned.  “Thank you both of you for doing this.”

Sansa was relieved to have so much help.  She was quite sure that without it, Jon would have insisted on doing it all himself.  He seemed to grow more and more protective of her and – more so – the baby every day.  Sansa found herself wishing once again that Jon was hers in truth and not just the father of her child.  She wanted _him_ to be hers too. 

“Is there any order you want us to do this in?” her father asked, cutting across Sansa’s thoughts. 

“Not really”, she shrugged.  “I’ve clearly marked all the boxes so you know where they’re to go when we get to the new place.  Oh, and that nest of tables is going too.  Maybe they could go in the first run?”

“I’ll take the tables, I’ve got more room.  Robb – if you want to start taking down some of the boxes out here?”  Robb nodded his assent and got to work.  Her father smiled at her.  “We’ll get you moved over as quickly as we can, and it’ll give you more time later to unpack anything you need over the next day or so.”

“Thanks.  I mean it.  I couldn’t have done this without your help.  And Robb’s.”

“Sweetheart, I would do anything for any of you”, her father told her gently.  “And, to be honest, with all Jon did, there wasn’t much left for me yesterday.  Come on, let’s get a move on.  The sooner we get started, the sooner we’ll finish.  Your mother was up early to prepare a gargantuan feast for all of us.  I’m sure you and Jon will be sent home with enough leftovers to last the week.”

Sansa liked the idea of that.

**********

When they reached the cottage, Sansa saw immediately that Jon had already started moving his own boxes in.  His box-filled car was parked just in front of Sam’s and she identified the childish squeals as coming from Jon’s godson. 

Jon came bounding out of the house and greeted her with a smile.  “Morning.  I thought I’d get an early start on this in case you needed any help.”

Sansa felt a fluttering inside at his words. 

“Thank you.  We actually managed to get quite a bit – “

She was interrupted by Sam and his son coming to join them.  “Boxes!” Little Sam shouted.  Jon grinned down at his godson. 

“Yeah, more boxes”, Jon told him.  He took a small box out of the car and handed it over.  Sansa smiled gently at the young boy.

“I help!” he told Sansa gleefully. 

“You are”, she replied.  Little Sam ran back into the house.  “Hi, Sam.  Gilly and Aemon both with you?”

“They are”, he confirmed.  “She’s got the kettle on.”

“I’ll go inside and help her, then”, said Sansa.  She knew from the day before that Jon wouldn’t let her do anything he deemed too strenuous. 

In some ways it frustrated Sansa and made her want to scream that she wasn’t made of glass.  In others it touched Sansa deeply to have someone look after her; she hadn’t experienced that so far outside her family.  So far, Jon was more than making good on his promise to take care of her and the baby. 

Sansa went into the house and followed the sound of Little Sam’s childish giggles to the kitchen, where Gilly was sorting out a plate of biscuits while Aemon slept in his car seat.  She handed one to her older son in exchange for the box. 

“He wanted to help, so I asked Jon to give him a couple of empty boxes to move around”, she shrugged.  “How are you?”

“Good, thanks”, Sansa replied.  She pulled out a couple of mugs and looked for the coffee jar.  “I’ve finally got my energy boost, but Jon isn’t letting me do anything with it.”

Gilly laughed.  She took some milk out of the new fridge.  “Sam was the same first time round.  If he’d had his way, I would’ve been wrapped in cotton wool for nine months.  But, he’s right that you shouldn’t be carrying anything heavy.”

“I just – “  Sansa glanced round the corner to make sure Jon wasn’t nearby.  “I just worry sometimes that he’s doing too much.  He’s been running around after me ever since I told him about the baby, and he’s got a stressful, time-consuming job.”

Sansa worried that Jon would continue where Margaery left off in discontinuing her contribution to housekeeping.  But, this wasn’t a small two-bed apartment.  This was a large three-bed house.  She didn’t want Jon making himself ill.

“Jon’s a good guy.  He’ll want to do right by you.  Let him.  Contribute what you can without making him realize it.  That’s what I did with Sam.”  Gilly poured out the coffee and let Sansa think on her words.  She decided to take Gilly’s advice and do as much around the house as she could get away with.  It struck her then that cooking was hardly taxing – she could easily keep Jon fed.

On the subject of food, Sansa took her father aside a few moments later.  “You said mum was making a gargantuan feast?”

“I did”, he agreed.

“I was thinking, we should invite Sam and Gilly to join us.” 

Her father smiled at her.  “That sounds like a lovely idea.  If they accept, then just be sure to let your mother know to set the extra places.”

Sansa went back through to the kitchen immediately.  “Do you have plans for later?”

“A long hot bath before bed”, Gilly smiled.

“My mother is cooking a big enough dinner to feed half of Wintertown – would you, Sam and the children like to join us?  I can’t thank the two of you enough for the help today.”

“I would love to.”  Gilly looked over Sansa’s shoulder.  “Sam?  Sansa’s invited us over for dinner this evening.”

Sansa saw Jon smile as Gilly spoke.  She shrugged her shoulders.  “My mother always makes far too much food.  It’d be no trouble, honest.  Dad says she’s preparing a feast.”

“That sounds lovely”, Sam replied.

********** 

“I’ve eaten far too much”, Sansa pronounced as she pushed away the plate that had formerly been full of her mother’s lemon sponge and cream.  Her father had not been exaggerating when he’d referred to the meal as a feast.  They’d started off with her mother’s homemade broth, and followed it with roast lamb and all the trimmings. 

Robb had taken two helpings of soup and lamb and looked fit to burst.  “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be moving any time soon.”

“No wonder”, Jeyne snorted.  “Anyone watching you put all that away would think I never feed you.”

“I’ve been busy!  I carried lots of boxes and tables and suitcases filled with Sansa’s clothes!” Robb protested. 

Her brother spoke true.  They’d spent a good couple of hours driving between her now old apartment and her new home, loading boxes into cars and then unloading them at the other end.  It had been a long day but it was worth it.  When she could finally move, she’d get into Jon’s car and he’d drive them back to what was now their house. 

“Yeah, I think I ate too much myself”, said Jon.  He turned to her mother.  “Your cooking is just too good.  If everything gets sorted early on tomorrow, I think I might take myself out for a run to work it off.”

Jon had taken Monday off work to be at home when their internet and cable TV was installed.  Sansa scolded herself internally again.  She kept thinking of it as _their_ house, _their_ things…..in truth, it was _Jon’s_.  She was just living there.

“Well, it’s a good thing you like my cooking, because you and Sansa will be taking the leftovers off my hands.  It can be a nightmare trying to cook in a new house, with all the unpacking and organizing you need to do.”

“Thank you”, Jon replied. 

Sansa took him in from the other side of the table and had to stop herself from undressing him with her eyes.  Now that living with Jon had gone from being something that was happening in the future to something that was happening in the present, Sansa found she couldn’t stop thinking about him.  Particularly after that kiss at New Year’s.  She’d thought on it again and again in the days since. 

As far as Sansa was concerned, Jon Snow could put his mouth on any part of her he wished. 

Thank the gods for the vibrator Marge had gifted her with for her last birthday.  Sansa had a feeling she’d be putting it to good use living with Jon, seeing him tousle-haired first thing in the morning and curled up on the sofa in the evening. 

“We should get going soon”, Sansa sighed as she brought herself out of her daydreaming and back into the present.  “I have to get everything ready for work tomorrow.  And I’ve got a meeting on Tuesday that I need to prepare for.”

Brienne always held their departmental meetings on a Tuesday afternoon, at the end of the school day.  This one was primarily to discuss the forthcoming field trips Sansa would be unable to chaperone.  She was looking forward to seeing Brienne again after Christmas and hearing of her trip home to Evenfall. 

Sansa offered to help her mother with the dishes but was shouted down immediately.  “I am more than capable of rinsing off a few dishes and loading the dishwasher.  You’ve all been busy today, it’s the least I can do.”

She smiled over at her mother and followed her father and Robb through to the family room.  Sansa worried that if she sat down on the sofa it would be difficult to get back up again.

“We should be getting a move on”, Gilly said after they’d all had some tea.  “Little Sam needs a bath before bedtime, and I’m trying to keep Aemon on a routine.”

Sansa struggled to stand up, but took Jon’s proffered hand in hers with a smile.  “Ooft!  I _definitely_ ate far too much!  Thank you for coming, and for everything you did today.”

“Yeah, thanks mate”, Jon added. 

“And don’t be a stranger – come and visit again after we’ve got rid of the boxes.”  Sansa gave Sam and Gilly a quick hug, and felt a warm fuzziness in her heart as their young son wrapped his arms around her leg in farewell – just as she’d seen him do with Jon.

“We should be getting on as well”, said Sansa when Jon came back inside after seeing Sam, Gilly and the children to their car.

“We should”, Jon agreed with a nod.  “And thank you for thinking to invite them.  They’ve always been good to me, Sam and Gilly, and I really appreciate it.”

Sansa felt the warmth of Jon’s smile and allowed herself to be led to Jon’s car after hugging her family in farewell.  Jon carried a large pile of Tupperware boxes out to the car with him, the leftovers her mother had promised them. 

In that moment, Sansa could almost pretend that they were a happy couple returning home together at the end of the day. 


	14. Fourteen - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is handed a new case at work, and settles into life in the cottage with Sansa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, Westerosi Law in this chapter and any other isn't based on any one country's legal system. Rather, I make it up as I go along to fit in with the plot!

As he drove to work on the Wednesday after he moved into the new cottage, Jon reflected on how easily he seemed to have settled into a routine with Sansa.  It was almost as if they had lived together for months – or even years. 

Of course, the fact they didn’t share a bathroom possibly helped some each morning.  For the third morning in a row, Jon had come downstairs to see a smiling Sansa in her adorable _Miss Direwolf_ pyjamas.  She would be sat at the kitchen eating toast, drinking decaf coffee and listening to _North FM_ on the radio.  They’d share conversation and butter and talk about the day ahead. 

In the evenings he watched mesmerized as she painted her toe nails in their living room, sang along with some CD or other while setting the table for dinner, and twisted pens or pencils around her hair as she completed some evening marking. 

And she fitted in so well with his friends!  Jon had been so touched when she’d invited Sam and Gilly over for dinner on Sunday, after they’d sacrificed a precious free day to help him move.  Little Sam was utterly in love with Sansa – Jon could tell by the way he treated her – and it made his belly flutter to think of someone as warm as Sansa as the mother of his future child. 

Jon knew he’d have to curb thoughts like that, to stop thinking of time spent around Sam and Gilly as anything akin to a double date.

Marillion’s new song, _Through the Moon Door_ , started up on the radio.  Jon had never been a fan of his music, favouring acoustic rock Robb usually described as _deeply depressing stuff_ , but the thought of Sansa singing along to his songs put a smile on Jon’s face.

**********

When Jon reached the office a few minutes later, Alys greeted him with a cup of coffee and bad news. 

“Edd broke his arm in a freak accident overnight”, she told him.  “Mormont has assigned you a couple of his cases, and one of them has a nine thirty appointment you’ll need to cover.”

Jon was shocked.  “Edd was in an accident?  Is he – what happened?”

Edd was one of Jon’s closest friends.  He felt bad that Edd hadn’t wanted to bother him, even if whatever it was had happened in the early hours.

“Mormont says he got up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water.  The lightbulb went when he was halfway downstairs and he fell down the rest.  They kept him in the hospital to put a pin in his wrist.  Alysanne will be round later for a collection to send him a fruit basket or something”, she assured him.  Jon made a mental note to check the bulbs in his cottage and another to go to visit Edd over the next couple of days. 

Jon felt a massive sense of relief that it hadn’t been worse.  Edd had always been good to Jon, ever since he’d started at the firm.  If he was ever having a bad day, Edd’s dry and morose sense of humour was somehow always able to cheer him up.   

“I’ll text him when I get into my office”, Jon thought aloud.  “I have his nine thirty?”

Alys nodded.  “You do.  Walda Bolton.  She’s the widow of that really shady business guy, Roose Bolton – the one who died over Christmas?  Anyway, there’s problems with his Will and his son from a previous relationship is challenging her rights to the house, the business and all the money.”

Alys handed him a file.  Jon thanked her and went into his office.  He had a little over half an hour to prepare for the meeting.  He had never been a fan of Roose Bolton, owner of a number of clothing factories and outlets.  Jon had suspected more than once from some of the pro-bono work he’d carried out that Bolton’s business, Dreadfort Inc., employed illegal immigrants from Essos on less than the minimum wage, and that Bolton’s factories were not up to the regulation safety standards. 

Jon remembered dimly that one of Roose’s cousins had a son in Sansa’s class; she’d mentioned having to send the boy to detention regularly. 

At precisely half past nine, Alys showed Walda Bolton into his office.  She was a large woman who apologized in advance for any noise her sweet baby Domeric might make.  It was the nanny’s day off and she’d forgotten that when making the appointment.  Thinking of Sansa and their little nugget, Jon smiled at the small boy before turning to his mother. 

“I’m afraid Mr. Tollett has broken his wrist.  There’s no saying how long he’ll be out of the office, so I’ve been asked to take over your case for the time being”, Jon explained apologetically.  It was always a nightmare switching over cases like this, both for the firm and the client.  The lawyer taking on the case had to spend time replicating work to catch up, and the client usually hated being passed around. 

“Your assistant explained that.  She was very nice.  She gave me a cup of tea and a biscuit.  I’m afraid I was very early, but I’m trying to get Domeric into a routine.”  Jon nodded.  He supposed that was something he would come to know more about in the coming months. 

“Yeah, Alys is great”, he agreed genuinely.  She more than kept Jon on track with his cases and calls.  He returned to the file in front of him. 

“So, normally under Westerosi law, in the event a man or woman dies without making a Will, their surviving spouse inherits everything.  That is the case here, but your late husband’s son Ramsay is challenging that based on his position within the family firm, Dreadfort Inc., is that right?”  Walda nodded. 

“Ramsay did live with us, as well as being involved at the firm.  I don’t know anything about how the firm works.  I’m at home all day with Domeric.  We named him after his half-brother, who died of anaphylactic shock.”

Jon felt sorry for her; for all he’d perceived Roose Bolton to be a cold and callous businessman, Walda seemed to be genuinely lost without him.  “Now, Ramsay claims that he is on the Dreadfort Inc. Board of Directors, that he has numerous responsibilities in recruitment and business relationships, and that his father was grooming him to take over the business one day?”

“Yes.  I don’t want him to be left with nothing.  I thought Roose had made a Will.  He told me he had, once.  Or, at least I think I remember him saying so.  But, after he died, I couldn’t find it anywhere in the house.”

Jon glanced back at his notes – that didn’t seem to have been recorded before. 

“Do you have any idea what might’ve been in this Will?”  Jon asked. 

Walda shrugged.  “I didn’t deal with business.  Roose dealt with that.  And his lawyers, but Ramsay hired them.  Petyr Baelish and his people.”

Jon’s suspicions were raised.  Had there been a Will – one that the son, Ramsay, had hidden because it definitively denied his rights to his late father’s fortune and power?  It was far easier to challenge an absent Will than a present one.  And, there was always the chance that the widow would decide it might be cheaper and less worrisome to settle out of court.

“There was a case in the Stormlands a few years ago”, Jon began slowly, recalling one of his professors discussing it in class.  “I’d have to look up the details, but I recall a man dying without a Will and his brother challenging it on the grounds that the family home would ultimately go to children who had actually been fathered by another man.  There are some similarities between the two cases.”

Jon took some more details from Walda and arranged a meeting a fortnight down the line.  There was a chance Edd might be back at work by then to take the appointment (his poor secretary doing all his note-taking for him) but if not, Jon assured Walda that he would take the meeting so she wouldn’t need to deal with a third member of staff. 

Updating the file after Walda’s departure, her situation and Edd’s accident brought it home to Jon just how fragile life could be.  He didn’t want his child to be in the same situation as baby Domeric.  Jon set aside his notes and called through to Grenn, asking him to stop by his office later on in the day. 

**********

On Thursday evening, Jon stopped off at the hospital on his way home from work to catch up with Edd.  His operation had been successful and he would be released the following day, though it would be another week or so before he could return to work.  Jon decided that he wouldn’t mention the fruit basket at the next bed to anyone at the office.  Alysanne’s thoughtful gift clearly hadn’t been to Edd’s liking. 

Catelyn’s leftovers had lasted until the night before, and as Jon walked in the house he contemplated the pasta he’d bought on his Monday off.  It would make a fast and tasty meal.  A lemony scent wafted through the house, however, and Jon reached the kitchen to discover Sansa was already taking care of his dinner.  

“Lemon chicken, rice and vegetables”, she told him with a smile.  “It should be ready in around ten to fifteen minutes.  How was Edd?”

“Good”, Jon nodded as he loosened his tie.  He opened the cutlery drawer and went to set the table, not wanting Sansa to have to do everything.  “He’ll be released tomorrow, but I could tell he’d rather be out of there tonight.  Edd hates hospitals.  He’s convinced there are thousands of people a year who are admitted for minor ailments and end up dying.”

Sansa didn’t seem to know how to take that, but then she didn’t know Edd well enough yet.  Instead he asked how her day had been. 

“Good.  I’ve been reading through the essays I set over the holidays and there are some really good ones in there.”  Jon loved it when Sansa talked about her job.  She was so passionate about her subject and an incredible teacher. 

“What did you set the essays on?” he asked.  He couldn’t remember her ever telling him. 

“Well, I figured that the Christmas holidays are a time for family so I didn’t want to be mean and give them something horrendous to do”, she reasoned.  “So I asked them all to pick an historical figure they admired and write an essay on why they admired the person.”

Jon wished he’d had a teacher like Sansa at school.  “You have a favourite?”

A pretty pink blush grew up Sansa’s neck.  “I know I might be biased, because I share her name – even though there’s no way in all seven hells we could _actually be related_ – but one of my final year students wrote about the Lady Stark who lived during the Second Battle for the Dawn.  Anyway, she’s an incredibly gifted student and she writes beautifully.  To be honest, I think I’d have loved the essay regardless of the person she’d chosen.”

Sansa stirred the dinner as she spoke, but Jon caught the sparkle in her eye.  He wished he’d been the one to put it there. 

“Dinner smells amazing”, he told her honestly.  Jon knew he’d made the right decision in asking Sansa to move in with him, but it was proving difficult to be around her all the time with the feelings that just wouldn’t seem to go away.  And now he would be sitting down at the end of the day to a dinner she’d prepared…….

Jon pushed down the thought that it was almost as if they were married.

“Courtesy of my Christmas present.”  Sansa raised the cookbook she’d been working from, the one Jon had given her at Christmas – _1001 Lemon Dishes and Cakes_.  Jon also noted the charm bracelet on her wrist; another of his Christmas gifts.

“You’re settling in okay here?” Jon asked.  He took two plates from the oven, where he could see Sansa had been warming them.  “It’s been close enough to school?”

He wanted to make sure she wasn’t regretting her decision to move in with him, but couldn’t quite find the words to frame the question. 

“It’s been great”, Sansa replied.  She bit her lip prettily, and Jon smiled at her.  Gods, but he wished this was real.  “Are you still alright for Monday?”

Jon felt his smile grow.  Monday was the day fixed for their second scan with Doc. Luwin.  Jon couldn’t wait to see how their little nugget had grown since the last one.  He’d hardly been able to make the baby out the first time he’d looked at the screen, and hoped that this time he or she would be clearer. 

Sansa scrunched up her shoulders and moved an arm up to rub them. 

“You sore?” Jon asked her instantly. 

“A little”, Sansa admitted. 

“Here”, Jon murmured.  He forced his hands to stop shaking and moved forwards to rub Sansa’s shoulders gently.  His fingers rubbed circles into the knots he identified and Sansa let out a soft moan at the motion. 

There was barely anything happening between them, and they were both fully clothed, but to Jon it felt erotic as hell.  He knew he couldn’t do this for too long or he’d start to get hard – and that would be more awkward than it was worth. 

“Wow, this feels good”, Sansa murmured with a chuckle.  Jon found himself unable to reply, as if his throat was closed. 

An alarm went off.  Sansa jumped and looked at her phone.  She coughed.  “Dinner’s ready.”

**********

Late Friday morning, Jon had Alys place a call to Wolfswood Trust – specifically, a call to the office of the Chairman of Wolfswood Trust, Ned Stark. 

“Would you be available if I dropped by the office in an hour or so?” Jon asked, once the pleasantries had been dispensed with and Jon had assured Ned that nothing was wrong. 

“Of course.  I tend not to have too many meetings on Fridays”, Ned replied.  “Is there something you need my help with?”

“Yes and no.”  Jon knew he was being evasive.  “It’ll make more sense face to face.  I’ve got a meeting with a client in five minutes.  I’ll see you in around an hour?”

“Of course.”

“Good.  And again, I promise it’s nothing to worry about.”

Jon didn’t want to bring this to Robb for a number of reasons, and he most certainly didn’t want to bring it to Sansa.  He didn’t want to say or do anything that might cause her the smallest amount of concern or stress.  Jon knew it wasn’t good for her or the baby.  Ned was the right person for him to speak to on this one. 

**********

An hour later, Jon pulled up outside the main offices of Wolfswood Trust.  It was a relatively new charitable organization, having been founded in the previous century by a group of environmentalists known as Children of the Forest.  The Trust was meant to ensure the Wolfswood – forests and green lands that surrounded Wintertown – was used sustainably and in an environmentally friendly manner, as well as a means of educating local children on matters of nature. 

Ned Stark had worked for the Trust for years, but this was Jon’s first visit to his office here. 

Jon stepped into the foyer and smiled at the receptionist.  He read the name Beth on her tag, and asked her to advise Ned he was here.  Beth called through to someone and then asked Jon to take a seat.  A few moments later, Ned appeared from a door to his left and called him in. 

“Coffee, Mr. Stark?” Beth asked. 

“Please, Beth”, he replied. 

Ned led Jon through to an office almost twice the size of his own – an office that had its own meeting table.  Jon sat down opposite Ned, hoping he hadn’t caused too much concern.  He knew what he was doing was the right thing but that didn’t take away the nerves sitting in front of Sansa’s father caused.  The last couple of months had been an adjustment as he became less Robb’s best friend and more the father of Ned’s first grandchild. 

“Again, I’m sorry if I’ve worried you”, said Jon.  “It really isn’t anything to worry about, but I – “

They were interrupted by Beth knocking on the door and bringing in a tray with coffee and biscuits.  Beth smiled at them both.  “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Beth”, smiled Ned. 

“Thanks”, echoed Jon.  He took a sip of the coffee and selected a tasty-looking chocolate cookie. 

“Sorry, you were saying?”

Jon chuckled.  “Right.  Uhm, I don’t want Sansa to worry over something she doesn’t need to worry about, and Robb would probably just tell me that I’m being morbid, but I wanted one of you to have a copy of this.”

Jon handed Ned a large, unsealed manila envelope.  Not long after Walda Bolton had left Jon’s office, he’d called in Grenn and asked him to witness his Will along with Alys.  He was now a homeowner and would soon be a father.  It was time for Jon to start acting responsibly. 

“It’s a copy of my Will.  I had a case at work this week that sort of brought it home to me that I haven’t been as organized in that area as I should be.  If anything happens, I want Sansa and the baby to be looked after.”  Jon sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.  “Life insurance is one of the benefits I get working for Mormont & Associates.  It isn’t a fortune, but it’d pay off the mortgage and leave a little over for a rainy day fund.”

Ned nodded.  “I know you’re being careful, but I don’t want you to worry either.  Catelyn and I wouldn’t let Sansa or our grandchild slide into penury.”

Jon smiled gently.  If there was a father-figure in his life he hoped to emulate with his own child, it was – and would always be – Ned Stark.  “I know that.  I just – the baby, and by extension Sansa, they’re my responsibility now.  I meant what I said the day we told you about the baby.  I will do all I can to look after them.  My father died in a car accident before I was born.  His divorce hadn’t gone through yet, and he didn’t leave a Will, so his estranged wife got everything.  She was good enough to my mother.  I don’t want Sansa to be reliant on the goodwill of others, even if you are family.”

“You’re going to be a great father, Jon”, Ned told him.  Jon swallowed, his heart beating fast.  It meant a lot to him to hear Sansa’s family say such things.  “And I don’t just mean because of this.  You’re good with your godson and his brother.”

“Sam’s always been good to me”, Jon shrugged.  In the weeks after his mother’s death, Jon had sought solace away from the noisy Starks with Sam and Gilly’s quiet calm and his godson’s undemanding nature. 

Jon sipped away at his coffee as Ned showed off the view from his office window.  Jon had yet to work his way far enough up the ladder at Mormont & Associates to warrant an office with a window, but if he did well at the interview he had in a couple of weeks then that could very well change. 

“Come over for dinner with Sansa on Sunday”, Ned suggested.  “You’re back at Luwin’s next week, aren’t you?”

“Monday”, Jon confirmed.  He could hardly wait.  Day by day they grew closer to Sansa’s due date. 

**********

When he returned home on Friday evening, Jon said nothing to Sansa about his meeting with her father.  As he’d said to Ned, he didn’t want her to be worried unnecessarily.  Jon knew how much she loved the cottage.  If the worst happened – and, touch wood, it wouldn’t – then she would be able to stay there with the baby.

It had been a long week for both of them with all the unpacking they’d had to do in the evenings, and Sansa often brought a little marking or lesson preparation home with her.  She retired to bed relatively early and left Jon downstairs to watch an old movie on TV over a couple of beers. 

Jon was tired himself, though, and decided an early night was in order.  He put the empty beer bottles in the appropriate recycling box and headed upstairs, thinking idly that he and Sansa should really make a run to the grocery store the following day.  Jon figured if he took her on a Saturday and bought enough for the week ahead, then it would be one less task for her to think she needed to deal with after work.

As he walked past Sansa’s door, Jon heard a soft whirring noise.  He wouldn’t have thought anything of it, after all Sansa likely had any number of grooming devices he wouldn’t understand the purpose of, had it not been for the soft moans he heard accompany it. 

Jon gulped silently as he realized Sansa had gone to bed early with her vibrator. 

He pictured what he could remember of their night together and the sounds Sansa had made as she’d come apart under his touch.  Jon stared at her bedroom door for a moment, thinking of Sansa getting herself off mere feet away. 

Curse him to all seven hells, but Jon Snow _wanted_ Sansa Stark. 

He wanted to kiss every inch of her skin and explore the changes pregnancy had wrought on her body.  He wanted to bring her off with his mouth all night long and make her scream his name.  He wanted to hold her and run his fingers through her hair while he told her how much she was coming to mean to him. 

Jon felt himself grow hard and realized he couldn’t stay where he was.  Instead, he grabbed a fresh towel and a clean pair of pyjama bottoms from his room, along with an old _Batman_ t-shirt he often slept in, and headed for the bathroom he thankfully didn’t share with Sansa. 

Jon turned the shower up to full power as he removed the shirt and trousers he’d spent the day in.  He hissed slightly when it came to removing his boxers as they slid over his hard cock.  Jon hadn’t been with a woman since the night he’d spent with Sansa and since then he’d had to deal with the intense feelings he constantly struggled to keep beneath the surface. 

He stepped into the shower, allowing the water to consume him as he took his length in hand.  He stroked himself slowly at first, as he thought of _her_.

He imagined Sansa lying on his bed, her red hair splayed out on his pillow as he unbuttoned one of those delightful blue shirts she often wore, and kissed down the valley between her breasts.  He imagined the soft mewling sounds she’d make as he massaged her clit.  He imagined her moaning his name as he kissed his way up her legs, wrapped them around his shoulders and fucked her with his tongue. 

Jon’s breath hitched as he hardened further and the pace of his strokes increased. 

Images flashed through his mind…..Sansa scraping her nails down his back…….Sansa biting down on his shoulder as he filled her up…….Sansa sucking him off…….Sansa riding him, her breasts bouncing faster and faster as they chased their orgasms. 

His back up against the wall of the shower, Jon panted as he thought again of Sansa as she was now.  In her bedroom, vibrator in hand, pleasuring herself as he did himself not far away. 

Jon pictured a pink tongue darting out of her mouth and deft fingers hardening her nipples into peaks.  He pictured her head thrown back as she reached her climax.  He pictured her naked, round with his child. 

It took all the willpower Jon possessed not to yell Sansa’s name as he came.


	15. Fifteen - Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa goes for her twenty week scan and tries to deal with her increased libido.

When Sansa got dressed on the morning of her twenty week scan, she reflected that it had now been a full week since the day she’d first woken up at the cottage.  And yet, it seemed to her at times like she and Jon had been living together for much longer.  Sansa appreciated the quiet calm Jon exuded when they were both at home and enjoyed speaking to him over dinner about how they’d spent their day. 

She put on the loose-fitting shirt and skirt she thought would be best for the scan and grinned.  She was so excited at the thought of seeing how their little nugget had grown since the first scan.  It had been eight weeks since then.  Sometimes, Sansa felt as if those eight weeks had flown by.  At others, she felt as if they had taken so much longer. 

It had been the day of the first scan that Jon had asked her to move in with him and here they were now – settled into the cottage and most of their boxes unpacked.  A lot had happened in what was, in reality, a short period of time.

Sansa grabbed her cosy, long black cardigan from the bed and noticed that she hadn’t put her vibrator away the night before.  She could feel a blush grow up her neck when she recalled the fantasies she’d contemplated while using it. 

The second trimester energy burst had come – but not alone.  Sansa hadn’t picked up on it at first, had simply assumed that her latent attraction to Jon was coming to the fore more because he was the father of her child and they were spending so much time together.  But she couldn’t deny that not a day had gone by since the move without her using the vibrator she’d previously only taken out three or four times a month. 

Her hormones were going haywire and it was all she could do to stop herself from pushing Jon up against the nearest available surface and pleading with him to fuck her brains out. 

Sansa looked at the door to the en-suite and whined.  The last time she’d come the night before, it had been imagining Jon taking her in the en-suite shower.  No, she had to get a move on or she’d be late for work.  How could she explain that to Brienne?  Late because she’d been busy imagining Jon getting her off?

There was a knock at her bedroom door.

“Sansa?”

“Yeah, coming.”  _Though not in the way I want to be._

She opened the door to find Jon dressed in a suit the same stormy grey as his eyes.  Sansa decided it really wasn’t fair on the human race (specifically her) for him to look this good first thing in the morning.  Or any other time of day, really.

“Uhm, I was thinking – maybe I could drop you off at school and then pick you up after, to go on to Doc. Luwin’s?  That way we’d only need to take the one car”, Jon suggested. 

“That – yeah, that’d be good, Jon.  I’ll be downstairs in two minutes.  I just need to make sure I’ve got everything in my bag”, she smiled.  Sansa closed the door over and heard Jon walk downstairs.  She immediately put the vibrator in the bedside drawer before she forgot again.  Packing her hairbrush and vanity mirror away in her bag, Sansa realized that evening’s fantasy would _probably_ involve her and Jon in the back seat of his car. 

**********

By the time they reached Wintertown High, Sansa knew her next fantasy would _definitely_ involve her and Jon in the back seat of his car.  She sighed when the car came to a standstill so she could get out.

“Thank you for bringing me”, she told him.  “And for putting the radio volume up when Marillion’s new song was on.  I know his music isn’t exactly to your taste.”

Jon chuckled lightly.  “Yeah, but it’s one of your favourites.  I’ve heard you singing along with it when you’re making breakfast or setting the table for dinner.”

It touched Sansa that Jon noticed these things.  She doubted Joffrey or Harry could’ve even named her favourite band.  Sansa took off her seatbelt and opened the car door. 

“Have a good day.  I’ll pick you up around half past three.  That should give us enough time to get to Doc. Luwin’s for the appointment”, Jon told her. 

“See you then”, Sansa smiled.  She closed the car door and waved Jon off. 

“You’ve bagged yourself a good one there, sweetheart.  You’ll have the most beautiful children.”  Sansa looked to her left to see she’d been joined by Sybell Glover from the Maths department.  “If I was ten years younger……”

“Oh, uhm, Jon and I aren’t technically together”, she told the older woman.  Sansa hoped she’d managed to keep her disappointment at that out of her voice.

Sybell shrugged.  “Sometimes there isn’t much between technically and not.”

Sansa mused on Sybell’s words as she walked through the corridors to the staffroom to check her cubbyhole for mail, and then went on over to the building which housed her classroom.  She had a free period at the start of the day, one she usually spent preparing for the final year students in her second period class.  They hadn’t long started studying the revival of the Faith Militant under King Tommen I. 

She was setting out copies of a textbook on the man known to history as the High Sparrow, when Brienne arrived, along with a tall, dark haired young woman. 

“Sansa, this is Edda Tallhart.  She’s our student teacher this term.  Edda, this is Sansa Stark.”  Sansa smiled, and went over to shake hands.  She could remember all too well how terrified she had been in the same situation. 

“Nice to meet you.  This is your second placement?”  Edda nodded. 

“Yes, I was down in White Harbour for the first.”

“Edda will be with us for the next six weeks, and then again for another fortnight when we’ve got those trips away planned”, Brienne told her.  “I’ll be getting Edda settled, but I thought perhaps she could sit in on your final year class second period?”

“That sounds good”, Sansa agreed.  “A small class, but a good bunch.  And some incredibly talented among them.  Uhm, Brienne, do you have a moment?”

Brienne sent Edda back through to her own classroom, and Sansa closed the door behind her.  

“It isn’t anything awful, only I prefer privacy when I’m talking about the baby”, Sansa explained.  “I just wanted to make sure you remembered I’ll be leaving right after final period this afternoon.  I’ve got my twenty week scan at four.”

“That’s fine.  I didn’t see your car in the parking lot this morning – are you alright to get there, you don’t need a lift or anything?”

“Jon dropped me off.  He’s picking me up for the appointment at the end of the day.”  Sansa was struck – not for the first time – that their living arrangements sometimes made it feel almost as if they were _married_.  

“I’m glad he’s looking after you.  He’ll have me to contend with if that ever changes”, Brienne winked.

“It never will”, Sansa told her with all the certainty she possessed.  She wished again that Jon was truly hers.  Whomever he built a life with properly would be a very lucky woman.  Jon had done nothing but look after her since the day she’d told him about the baby. 

“Right, I better get a move on.  I’ll bring Edda back through in an hour once I’ve sorted out all the admin stuff with her.  Actually……would you object to her spending the day with you?  You’ve got some good classes and I think she’ll work well with you.  I think the two of you will relate well to each other.”

“Yeah, that would be great”, Sansa replied.  She liked the idea of being a mentor of sorts to Edda as Brienne had been to her. 

**********

At the end of the day, Sansa walked out to the parking lot with Edda.  The young woman had impressed her.  As Sansa had said herself after fourth period, while a student teacher she hadn’t been nearly as confident in speaking to classes as Edda was. 

Sansa smiled to see that Jon was early.  He was sitting in his car, reading through a file of some description, his face screwed up in concentration.  It seemed a shame, almost, to disturb him.  Sansa bade Edda farewell and knocked gently on the passenger-side window.  Jon jolted a little, but his face broke into a grin when he noticed her.

“How was your day?” he asked as soon as she sat down.  Jon put the file in the back seat and turned his attention to Sansa.

“Good.  Considering it is Monday and I gathered in weekend homework that I’ll need to make a start on marking this evening.”

“Speaking of this evening, I was thinking we could grab take-out on the way home.  Save us from cooking.”

“Braavosi.  I miss House of Black and White”, Sansa admitted.  “Or pizza, maybe?”

“I’m thinking pizza”, said Jon.  He started up the car.  “It comes in boxes and doesn’t require plates or cutlery.  We’d be saving ourselves from cleaning up afterwards as well as actually cooking.”

“Pizza it is”, Sansa decided.  From the file he’d put in the back seat, Sansa guessed Jon probably had work he needed to get done this evening too.  She placed a hand gently on her belly.  More than once, Sansa had felt stirrings, but she couldn’t wait for their little nugget to start moving around properly.  She couldn’t wait for the day she could take Jon’s hand and have him feel the baby move. 

“I can’t wait to see the little nugget up on the screen again”, Jon told her.  “I told Arya we’ve started using that nickname for the baby.  I was chatting to her online yesterday when you went upstairs for your nap after we got back from your parents’.  You – is that still a regular thing, for tiredness?”

He looked concerned.  Sansa found herself unable to tell Jon that she hadn’t actually done much in the way of sleeping during her _nap_.  Instead, she’d spent half an hour with her hands between her legs, thinking of how much she’d like Jon’s fingers to replace her own.   

“No.”  She knew Jon would take more work upon himself if he thought she was tired all the time.  “The unpacking just had me a bit tired.  To be honest, I’ve more energy now than I’ve had since before I was pregnant.”

“Okay.  Good.  But, uhm, if that changes then please let me know.  I don’t want you doing too much.”

Jon pulled into a parking space across the road from Doc. Luwin’s.  Sansa rolled her eyes as the car came to a stop.  She thought of what Gilly had said to her the week before.  “You can’t wrap me in cotton wool until the day I give birth, Jon.”

“No, I know that.  But – I just want you both to be healthy.”

Sometimes, Sansa thought Jon Snow was too good for this world. 

**********

Sansa felt Jon’s protective hand on the small of her back when she approached the reception desk at Doc. Luwin’s.  “Sansa Stark.  I have an appointment at four.”

The woman behind the desk checked something on her computer and asked them to take a seat.  Sansa noticed the board and saw that Doc. Luwin was running to time this afternoon, unlike the day of her first scan.  Her watch read five to four. 

“I was working with the new student teacher today”, Sansa told Jon when they sat down.  “Edda.  We got on really well.  She’s good.  We got chatting about the Battle of Oxcross.  She’ll be taking my place on that trip.”

“I know you’re disappointed, but Brienne was right.  You shouldn’t be going on a school trip heavily pregnant.  What if something happened and you were miles away?  And, if you really wanted to go to the battle site, I mean, you could take a trip there anytime.  Maybe – maybe we could go, when the baby is old enough.  I – you’ll have all that maternity leave to take.”  Jon looked really nervous, and Sansa wanted to take him in her arms and never let him go.  She thought of all the hotels they could stay in together – a family room.

No, Jon would likely be too chivalrous for that.  It would be separate rooms.

“That sounds pretty great.”  Sansa didn’t mention that she’d actually been to Oxcross before, on a trip as a student.  “I wrote my thesis on the Battle of Oxcross and the role it and the fall of the Crag played in the War of the Five Kings.”

“Sansa Stark?”  Their conversation was interrupted by the same nurse they’d met on their first visit calling Sansa’s name.  Jon’s protective hand was on the small of her back again as they followed the nurse back through to Doc. Luwin’s office. 

The older man was sitting down, smiling at them as they entered the room.  He gestured for them to sit and Jon held Sansa’s chair out for her.  She wondered vaguely how he’d look in fancy dress, like one of the brave knights from songs of old.  And how perfect it would be if she could remove the fancy dress.  Sansa had never really been into role play, but she could get interested in it for Jon Snow. 

“How have you been?” Doc Luwin cut across her thoughts and forced Sansa to focus. 

“Good.  My energy levels have perked up in the last week or so, which has been a blessing.  And I’ve been taking the vitamins you prescribed last time.”

“Nothing untoward?  No spotting or bleeding?”  Sansa shook her head.  She’d been lucky on that front.

“Well, in that case, let us move on to the main event.  If you could get up on the table and we’ll see how baby has grown since your last visit.  He or she should be clearer now.”  Sansa let Jon help her up on to the table.  She could feel his strong hands on her even when he went to sit down next to her.  An image flashed through her mind of Jon taking her on the table. 

She shook herself out of her thoughts and pulled up the baggy blue shirt she’d chosen to wear that morning.  Sansa loved this shirt, feeling the blue brought out her eyes.  The nurse dumped some of the cold gel on her belly and Sansa felt Jon’s fingers thread through hers. 

Sansa looked to the chair next to her and Jon’s comforting smile. 

Then she heard the same echoing noise she had the first time and turned her attention to the screen.  Sansa felt Jon squeeze her hand tightly as Doc. Luwin pointed out just how much the baby had grown in the last eight weeks.  It took Sansa’s breath away to hear the baby’s heartbeat. 

It made everything so much more real. 

“Oh, _Jon_ ”, she said softly.  She felt herself overcome with emotion and had to work hard to stop the tears that threatened to flow. 

“Yeah, I know.”  Sansa could hear the catch in his voice.  At least she wasn’t the only emotional one. 

“Two pictures, same as last time?” the nurse asked them. 

“Please”, Sansa nodded. 

“Baby is growing as we would expect.  Unless there is anything wrong, I wouldn’t expect to see you again until around six or seven weeks before your due date”, Doc. Luwin told them.  “The heartbeat is strong and healthy.  Keep doing what you have been and remember this is a marathon, not a sprint.”

“I will.”

The nurse handed Sansa a tissue to remove the gel.  She felt the loss of Jon’s hand as she wiped it from her belly.  He helped her down from the table, and back over to the chairs. 

Doc Luwin handed her a prescription.  “A top-up for the vitamins we discussed last time, and I’ve also added a cream, to help with the stretch marks.”

Sansa ducked her head.  She’d been a bit lucky on that score so far.  There were small streaks where her belly had expanded to accommodate their growing child, but Sansa didn’t think they were too obvious.  She did tend to get a bit embarrassed when such things were discussed in front of Jon, though.  Sansa wanted to raise the issue of her increased libido, but knew she would never have the courage to do so with Jon in the room. 

She took her chance when she got it, though.  Jon excused himself to go to the bathroom as they were leaving, and Sansa jumped back into Doc. Luwin’s Office. 

“Miss Stark?  Was there something else?”  He seemed a little surprised.

Sansa nodded.  “Uhm, there has been a sort of side effect, but I didn’t want to – I mean, it is a little private.”

“Would you like me to leave?” the nurse offered.  Sansa shook her head. 

“It’s just that over the last couple of weeks, I’ve noticed an increase in my sexual appetite.  I was wondering if that was, well, normal?”  Sansa felt deeply mortified, even discussing this with a medical professional.  She couldn’t bring herself to ask her mother.  Gilly had been an option she’d considered, but then Sansa didn’t feel they knew each other well enough yet to ask the question.  There was always a chance Sam would overhear, and she didn’t think he and Jon were the type of friends who kept secrets from each other. 

“It is perfectly normal, I assure you”, Doc. Luwin told her.  “It will fade towards the end of your pregnancy, when you’ll be uncomfortable all the time.  It is simply a result of the hormonal changes your body is undergoing at present.”

“Thank you.”  Sansa felt a modicum of relief.  It was normal.  She wasn’t going mad.  It was simply her hormones.  While she didn’t like the idea of it lasting the remainder of her pregnancy (she wasn’t sure she could cope with repressing her desire to have sex with Jon for another few months), at least nothing was wrong. 

“Let me know if you have any further questions, Miss Stark.  In the meantime, I do suggest you read Ebrose’s work, _Expectant Mother_.  It answers a number of questions, I find.”

Sansa thanked him again and went out to the receptionist’s desk to book her next check-up.  She’d just put the appointment card away in her bag when Jon appeared. 

“Ready?”

“Ready”, she replied.  Sansa decided to order _Expectant Mother_ online that evening.  With any luck, it would arrive by the end of the week.  She could spend her weekend perusing it – paying specific attention to any part of it dealing with the agony of thirsting after Jon Snow constantly. 

**********

They stopped by Peat’s Pizzas on the way back to the cottage.  Sansa got a little order envy when she opened up the box containing Jon’s Chicken Special.  It smelled of the barbeque sauce on top and had Sansa whining at the thought of her Vegetarian.  Jon seemed to catch on to what she was thinking. 

“Why don’t we share?” he suggested.  “Go half and half?  Your pizza is probably a lot healthier than mine is, it’d do me good.”

“Thanks”, Sansa said gratefully. 

“I’ll grab some napkins for us.”  Sansa watched Jon bend down to open the drawer in which she’d placed the disposable napkins.  She clamped her mouth shut in an attempt to stop her tongue from hanging out as she saw Jon’s suit trousers beautifully frame his ass. 

Sansa would definitely remember that sight when she spent some quality time with her vibrator later.

“Here we go.”  Jon handed her a napkin, and Sansa dived into the Chicken Special.

Sansa moaned at the taste.  She was definitely adding barbeque sauce to her next shopping list.  They could have it with chicken and melted cheese one evening.  Jon laughed when she told him.  “Maybe I should’ve bought you a recipe book for barbeque sauce for Christmas instead.”

“Speaking of Christmas gifts”, Sansa began, recalling the idea she’d had while they were waiting in line for their pizzas.  “I was thinking that we could go to that photography place in town this weekend or next, and get the sonogram picture from today’s scan enlarged.  That’s where I went to get the first one done, the one I put in the album I gave you for Christmas?”

Jon smiled at that.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I think that would be great.  We should get more than one, though.  You should get one for yourself, and I – I think it would be a nice gift for your parents.  We could get it framed for them.”

Sansa was embarrassed she hadn’t thought of that for herself.  “I think my mother will be in tears when we give it to her.  We can take it with us when we go over for dinner on Sunday.”  Jon now had a standing invite to Sunday dinner chez Stark. 

“Sounds like a plan.  I couldn’t believe how much the baby’s grown since last time.  I remember when we went for the first scan, it was hard to tell you were even pregnant.  Now, you’ve got that pregnancy glow thing, and a bump where our little nugget is.”  Jon got a horrified look on his face.  “Not that I mean you’re fat or anything.  You’re not.  You’re normal pregnancy size.  Sorry.”

He stuffed a slice of pizza in his mouth, possibly to stop himself from saying anything worse.  Sansa remembered Christmas Day and Arya and Rickon’s comments on her shape.  She found it oddly adorable how he’d been quick to retract anything that might sound similar.  Then Sansa noticed the sauce. 

There was a small piece of barbeque sauce at the side of Jon’s mouth.  Sansa wanted to climb over their new table, lick it off his face and then have him fuck her on the table. 

Instead, she simply gestured that he should wipe his mouth.  Jon looked at her quizzically.  “Erm, you have a little…….”

“Oh.  Sorry.  Not the best with table manners.”  Jon mopped up the sauce with his napkin and Sansa added the table to the long list of places she’d fantasize fucking Jon while pleasuring herself that evening.  She had some marking to get started on after dinner, but she could slip away upstairs around nine. 

The only thing was, these _early nights_ she needed to plead in order to go upstairs and relieve the tension coiling in her belly, cut into the time she had come to love spending with Jon in the evenings.  A couple of nights the week before, they’d curled up on the sofa and watched a movie together.  On another, they’d talked for what seemed like hours about ideas for the baby’s nursery. 

One of the reasons the cottage had been so perfect for them was the spacious living area.  Both of them could work or relax without getting in the other’s way.  But, Sansa found that in spite of that they seemed to gravitate towards each other. 

Sansa picked up another slice of pizza and mused yet again that she and Jon made a good team. 

“Do you have much paperwork to do tonight?” she asked Jon.

He shrugged.  “A little.  I have a couple of meetings tomorrow morning that I need to prepare for.  You said you had some marking to do?”

“Yeah.  I would’ve stayed on at school at the end of the day to get some of it done, but we had the scan.”  She smiled again at the thought of it and cradled her bump.  The stretch marks, the perpetual sexual frustration.  It would all be worth it when she held their child in her arms. 


	16. Sixteen - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon spends his Saturday with Sansa.

Jon woke early on Saturday with a sense of excitement that had nothing to do with the morning wood which followed his now nightly dreams of Sansa.  As well as going to the photographer’s to get the sonogram picture from their twenty week scan blown up, they were going to the Wintertown branch of Northern Nursery to buy some things for the baby’s room.

He and Sansa had spoken about some of their ideas over the last week or so, and decided to stop by the store to see what they could buy.  They’d agreed, however, to leave off on actually painting the room for now.  Jon had promised he would do that in a few weeks.

Although it was still early – not long past eight – Jon walked downstairs to find Sansa sitting at the kitchen table.  She was eating a piece of toast and skim-reading the book that had arrived on Thursday, _Expectant_ _Mother_.  Jon had offered to read it, to get an idea of what to expect from Sansa’s pregnancy, but she’d been hesitant about it.  In the end, Jon decided he’d spend some time on Amazon over the weekend trying to order a copy of a similar book aimed at expectant fathers. 

Perhaps Sam would have a recommendation for him.  Sam read a lot of books.

“Enjoying the book so far?” Jon yawned through his words, and ended up having to repeat them.  “Sorry.”

He took a bowl from the cupboard and poured himself some cereal.  “Yeah, it is good.  Lots of…….useful tips.  Are you okay to head out in an hour or so?”

Jon swallowed a mouthful.  “That should be fine.  I just need to have a quick shower.”  Jon shifted in his seat as he thought of the showers he’d had in the last week or so.  Almost all of them had involved him jerking off to thoughts of Sansa.

He’d fantasized about going down on and fucking Sansa in just about every room in the house. 

“I was thinking that we could stop off somewhere for lunch on the way back”, he added.  Jon had caught on to Sansa’s attempts to be the one responsible for making dinner most nights.  She had told him it made sense because she was always home earlier than he was, but Jon knew she was trying to find a way to get round his attempts to get her to rest as much as possible. 

“That sounds good.  Gage’s or Hobb’s?”

“Hobb’s”, said Jon, feeling a tad nostalgic.  That was where he and Sansa had met for lunch the Saturday after she’d told him about the baby.  “We should be back in time for Robb and Jeyne coming over.  I think he said they’d be here around two thirty or three.”

Robb had sent him a text the night before, saying they’d stop by and see how the cottage was after all the unpacking had been done.  The two of them had met up for beers at Castle Black a couple of times since the slightly awkward night just before New Year’s.  Things weren’t back to where they’d been before Robb had found out about the baby, but they were getting there. 

“I’m going to make myself some more toast.  Do you want some?” Sansa asked. 

“No, I’m alright.  But thanks for asking.” Jon shook himself mentally.  Part of him wondered what Robb’s reaction would be when he saw first-hand just how domesticated he’d become.  

**********

January was a slow shopping month in Wintertown and so Jon was able to park right in front of the photographer’s.  The baby store was on the edge of town, part of a retail park, so he didn’t need to worry about finding a space close to both. 

They walked inside to find the place empty, save for the staff.  Jon had never been in there before.  He looked around, taking in photo frames of varying shapes and sizes, a corner of the room set up for portraits and photography equipment for sale. 

“Can I help you?”  A young man came over to speak to them.  Sansa smiled at him. 

“Yes.  I was in here in December for a picture enlargement.  I was wondering if we could have the same again, please.”  Sansa pulled her copy of the sonogram picture from her bag and handed it over. 

“Of course.  If you’d like to follow me to the desk?”  Jon did what he seemed to do automatically now and placed a protective hand on the small of Sansa’s back.  The sales clerk filled out a small slip for them.  “And you’d like a small, medium or large enlargement?”

“Medium”, said Sansa.  “We’d like three, please.”

Sansa looked up at the photo frames and pointed at a large white one.  She turned to him.  “What do you think, for mum and dad?”

“Yeah, that looks good”, Jon agreed.  He’d come to love it when she asked for his opinion on little things like that.  She seemed to do it a lot.  Not from lack of confidence, or even in search of reassurance, Jon felt.  More, the two of them had become such a team that it came naturally.  Jon knew he was as guilty of it as Sansa; she was the first person he asked for advice now. 

Well, as long as it wasn’t about what to do with the feelings he was finding it harder and harder to repress.

Jon didn’t think he’d be asking anyone’s advice about _that_.

“We’ll take that white frame over there to go with one of the enlargements, if that could be fitted for us as well?” she asked the clerk.

“Of course”, he nodded.  “That should be ready for you in a couple of hours.  What’s the name?”

“Stark.”

The man handed Sansa a copy of the slip and said he would see them again later. 

“I didn’t think that we’d be out of there so quickly”, Jon admitted.  He opened the car door for Sansa and then ran round to the driver’s side.  He pulled out into traffic and headed for Northern Nursery. 

Sansa smiled when he put up the radio volume for Marillion again.  She started singing and in spite of himself, Jon soon found he was nodding his head in time with the music.  “See, it isn’t all that bad”, Sansa teased him.

Jon rolled his eyes.  “I am making no comment.  You seem to like it anyway.”

“I think the baby likes it too.”  Sansa rubbed her belly softly, though it was covered at present by her winter coat.  “I can’t wait to get to the store.  I’m so excited about finally being able to buy things for the baby!”

“Me too”, Jon smiled.  He stopped at a set of traffic lights.  “Is there anything in particular that you’re desperate to get today?”

Sansa considered this.  “Not really.  I mostly want to see what they have.  Though I’m sure we’ll end up buying stuff.”

“Definitely.”  Jon had a feeling that between himself, Sansa and the other Starks, this baby would have far more things than he or she actually needed.  As far as the baby was concerned, Jon had serious doubts in his ability to say the word _no_.

“We can’t buy a crib, though.  My mother phoned while you were in the shower, asking if I wanted to get brunch with her today.  When I told her where we were going, she said that she and my father want to buy the crib, as a gift.  Apparently it’s a Tully family tradition for the grandparents to buy the first crib.  I guess that’s why Robin had the same one as we did.  Grandpa Hoster got a job lot.”  Sansa laughed at that. 

Jon liked the thought of that; of old family traditions that would be passed down to his son or daughter from long ago. 

“No crib, then”, he conceded.  “But, at some point, maybe we could hit Gilly and Sam up for a list of things we definitely need.  Thinking on it, maybe we should’ve done that before this shopping trip.”

“That is a good idea, but I kind of like that our first trip out to buy baby things isn’t properly organized”, Sansa sighed.  “It’s just us browsing and buying far too many things we probably don’t need.”

Jon liked that.  He liked it whenever Sansa said _us_ , _we_ , _ours_ …….

It reinforced the feeling that he and Sansa were part of a team. 

Jon had been excited enough himself about coming on this shopping trip, a definite first, but it was increased ten-fold when he saw Sansa’s face as they walked in the store.  Her eyes were glistening slightly and her cheeks had been turned pink by the cold air outside.  She looked so beautiful that he wanted nothing more than to pull her towards him and kiss her into next week. 

“Oh, _Jon_ ”, she sighed, in the same tone as she had at their scan, when their little nugget had appeared on the screen.

“Yeah, I know”, he replied. 

The store was massive, and filled from floor to ceiling with baby paraphernalia.  As far as the eye could see there was everything from furniture to nursery accessories and decorations to prams and car seats to cuddly toys to clothes.  As far as Jon could see, there were two major problems – he couldn’t afford to buy it all, and even if he could, it wouldn’t all fit in his car. 

“Let’s take a basket each”, Jon decided.  They’d have to be careful they didn’t end up with _too_ much stuff they would never need or use.

They went to the clothing section first, where there were baby clothes for newborns up to three year-olds.  Jon felt his responsible side try to take over.  “I remember when Little Sam and Aemon were born, Gilly told me not to buy lots of clothes in the newborn size because babies grow too quickly to wear them more than a few times.”

Then he spotted some _Harry Potter_ themed t-shirts.  He held up one that said _Daddy’s Little Muggle_.  “On second thoughts, isn’t this the most adorable thing ever?”

Sansa didn’t comment, but he saw her roll her eyes and smile when he put the item in his basket.  Yes, Jon decided, lots and lots of doubt would be cast on his ability to say the word _no_.

**********

An hour later found them both at the checkout.  Jon internally defended his overflowing basket and the pile of items he carried in his arms by reasoning that Sansa’s basket was equally as full.  And many of their items – like the blackout blind Sansa had mentioned to him before – were eminently practical. 

When Sansa’s bags were packed, Jon added them to his own pile and carried everything out to the car. 

“I really enjoyed that”, Sansa told him.  “It felt good to spoil the little nugget.  I wonder if Arya’s raided that new store near Gendry’s workshop yet.”

“I don’t know if raided is the word, but she admitted the other day that she’s been in”, Jon replied.  He stored their bags in the back seat and opened the passenger door for Sansa. 

“Thanks.”

“I suppose we’ll see what she bought next time they manage to visit.  Has she said anything about them coming up again?  She hasn’t to me.”

“Nor me.  But she _has_ said that the bad weather is good for Gendry’s business, so I guess when the weather brightens up a bit.”  Jon hoped it would be soon.  He missed Arya.  They both did.

Jon started up the car and drove out of the car back, heading back into Wintertown to pick up the enlarged pictures.  He wasn’t sure what exactly they managed to do at the photographers, only that their equipment somehow managed to increase the size of the picture without making it fuzzy and grainy.  He loved the album Sansa had given him at Christmas and intended to fill it with pictures of their first child. 

“What was your favourite thing at the baby store?”  Sansa asked him. 

Jon thought about it carefully.  There had been so many things.  “The stuffed wolf.  It reminds me of the dog I was desperate to get when I was a child.  We couldn’t have one, not with my mother out working all the hours she did, but it didn’t stop me from wanting one.”

“But I got that one”, Sansa replied. 

“Only because you beat me to it!” Jon chuckled.  He knew that if their son or daughter begged him for a dog, he’d be putty in their hands and do his best to make it work. 

“I liked the rattle, I think.”  Sansa looked thoughtful.  Jon asked her why.  “Because it’s such a traditional thing to give a child, and I’ve bought the first one for mine.”

“That sounds like a really good reason”, he said quietly.  Jon pulled up outside the photographer’s.  This was turning into a pretty amazing Saturday. 

**********

After they’d been to the photographers, Jon treated Sansa to a mammoth, filling lunch at Hobb’s that had him doubting whether dinner would be necessary.  They had not long returned home when Robb and Jeyne turned up at the door. 

Jon went through to the hallway to let them in.  He and Robb were getting better around each other with every meeting. 

“Afternoon!”  Jeyne greeted him with a smile and a hug.  “It is FREEZING outside.  Definitely a day to stay indoors as much as you can.”

“Southerners”, sighed Robb dramatically.  He followed Jeyne inside and Jon closed the door behind them.  When they got into the living room, Jon saw that Sansa had staked a claim to her favourite corner of their cosy sofa.  It amused him that she didn’t get up to hug Robb, but rather forced her brother to come to her. 

Jeyne sat down on Sansa’s right and looked around the room.  “The place is looking great.  You have fantastic taste, Sansa.”

Sansa tried to protest, but Jon stopped her.  “You know as well as I do that you picked out most of it.  And the house looks all the better for it.  I hate to think what kind of mis-matched disaster I would’ve come up with.”

“There would be a lot more black than white, cream and grey”, Robb agreed. 

“Why don’t you take them on the tour, and I’ll get us all some coffee?” Jon suggested.  Sansa looked all snuggly on the sofa, surrounded by cushions and the throw almost draped over her, but Jon knew she’d be better at it than him.  He wouldn’t know what to say beyond telling them what the room was used for. 

While the others went upstairs, Jon made his way through to the kitchen and boiled the kettle.  It worried him a little, the picture he knew he and Sansa presented to the world.  Their situation had become so settled and domesticated so quickly that one of their neighbours – nice, young Miss Poole – had immediately assumed they were married. 

Luckily, Sansa hadn’t been there and Miss Poole (or, as she’d insisted, Jeyne) had promised not to say anything to Sansa.  Jon thought she’d felt a little embarrassed. 

Jon didn’t quite know where the line was for Robb.  What was considered simply looking after Sansa and ensuring the best for her and the baby, and what was considered being domesticated to the point where even Robb would have mistaken them for a proper couple?  A real couple?

Furrowing his brow, Jon poured out the coffee granules into the mugs (taking note of which was Sansa’s decaf) and took out the milk. 

Although he would ultimately do what he thought best for Sansa, the baby and himself, Jon wanted to do all he could to avoid a repeat of the situation he, Robb and Sansa had found themselves in earlier on in her pregnancy.  They had Robb’s support now, and Jon wanted to do all he could to keep it. 

He opened the cupboard, decorated a small plate with some biscuits and crackers, and set them down on the counter.  By the time he’d poured out the coffee, Sansa was wandering into the kitchen with Robb and Jeyne. 

“And this is the kitchen”, she told them.  “Bringing to an end our tour…….”

“Good timing”, Jon told her. 

“I aim to please.”  She smiled softly, but Jon thought he sensed a flirtatious undertone.  He dismissed it immediately.  Sansa wouldn’t be flirty with him.  Especially not in front of Robb.

“Coffee’s up.”  They made their way back through to the living room, Sansa leading the way so that she could (or so Jon suspected) reclaim her favoured spot on the sofa.  He thought she looked adorable cuddled up there and couldn’t wait to see her and the baby make the little corner their own. 

“Wait until you see what we got for mum and dad”, Sansa told Robb.  She pulled the framed picture they’d picked up from the photographer’s over from where it sat on the coffee table and handed it to him. 

“What is it?” Robb asked.  Jeyne rolled her eyes at him.  Jon stifled his laughter.  He would love to be a fly on the wall when Jeyne inevitably fell pregnant.  It would be just as much of an education for him as it had been for Jon. 

“Idiot”, Jeyne sighed.  “This is from the scan they went for on Monday.”

Sansa nodded.  “It is.  There’s a photographer’s in town who can enlarge pictures.  Jon and I got one each, but we – well, it was Jon’s idea really – we wanted to get this done as a gift for mum and dad.  What do you think?”

“Mum will definitely cry”, said Robb, echoing Sansa’s sentiments.  “Dad isn’t really the emotional type, but I think it’ll mean a lot to him too.  We ran into old Hal Mollen at golf this morning and he was telling Hal all about the baby.  His first grandchild.  This baby’s going to end up spoiled rotten.”

Jon and Sansa looked at each other and he could tell that she was thinking about their trip to Northern Nursery that morning just as much as he was.

“Yeah, we’re way ahead of you on that one, big brother”, Sansa laughed.  She told him about their morning shop.  “Maybe half of it was practical, but the rest was most definitely not.  I’m not sure how much wear the baby will get out of their _Daddy’s Little Muggle_ t-shirt.”

“Or the _Mummy’s Best Learner_ one”, Jon added.  In truth, he’d loved that t-shirt.  He hoped the baby had Sansa’s curiosity and enthusiasm for learning.

“Catelyn told us about the crib”, said Jeyne.  “Or, rather, she told me.  I stopped by the house this morning to drop Robb off for golf.  Here, let me give you a hand with those mugs.”

Jon nodded, and took Sansa’s from her.  Their fingers touched lightly and he felt the contact jolt right through him.  He tried to keep his face poker-straight in front of a perceptive Jeyne as they made their way back through to the kitchen. 

Jeyne glanced through to where Robb and Sansa were talking away about something on the sofa.  “So, I’m going to need a complete inventory of everything you’ve bought for the baby.  I’m also going to need to ask that you restrain Sansa – and yourself – from further such shopping sprees.”

Jon looked back at her, puzzled.  “Why?”

“Catelyn, Arya, Margaery and I are planning a surprise baby shower for Sansa next month.  I need to know what to tell people they shouldn’t buy.”

“Oh.”  A baby shower wasn’t even something that had crossed Jon’s mind.  “Sure.  I’ll get it to you as soon as I can.  That sounds good.  When were you thinking?”

“There’s a mid-term break next month, so we thought about having it then.  Also, this is me swearing you to secrecy.”  Jon grinned. 

“I think I can manage that.”

“Can you?”  Jeyne had a mischievous look in her eye, one that had Jon disconcerted.  He hoped that if she was even halfway to figuring out how much he was enjoying living with Sansa and how domestic their arrangements were, that she wouldn’t share it with anyone.  But, then, even halfway there was too much. 

“I can”, Jon replied firmly.  His tone softened.  “But, if you could do me a favour?  Invite Gilly.”

Jeyne bit her lip.  “The woman from the weekend you moved in?”

“Yeah.  She and Sam have been really good to both of us.  Their youngest, Aemon, is only a few months old and Gilly’s been really good with Sansa, answering questions she has.  Also, there’s a student teacher Sansa’s been working really closely with – maybe ask Brienne if she thinks it might be an idea to invite her as well.”

“Text me Gilly’s number and I’ll let her know the arrangements.  And I’ll speak to Brienne about the student teacher”, Jeyne promised.  She looked down slightly.  “I know Robb and I haven’t been around as much as we should’ve been, but we want that to change.”

“I know.”  Jon knew that Robb was trying hard to repair their friendship.  It wasn’t proving easy, but Jon hoped they were getting there.  No, he knew they were.  “We best get back through.”

When they returned to the living room, it was to Sansa and Robb trying to agree a date for him and Jeyne to come over for dinner.  “Next Saturday we have my boss’s fiftieth birthday, and the weekend after Jeyne is away in Torrhen’s Square for work.”

“Saturday after, then?” Sansa replied.  She turned around.  “Is that alright for you, Jon?”

“Yeah, that sounds good for me.  But, let’s go out for dinner rather than stay in.  Weren’t you saying the other day that you missed House of Black and White?  We could go there.”  Jon could see an internal war brewing in Sansa’s mind.  Yes, she had definitely said that, but she had probably also figured out that Jon’s suggestion of going out for dinner was coming from him knowing she’d insist on doing the cooking.

They were coming to know each other far too well. 

“I did say that”, she admitted.  Jon smiled, relieved her love of Braavosi food had won out. 

**********

Jon was dreaming of being chased by a zombie when he dimly became aware of someone calling his name.  He rubbed his eyes and stretched out to his right, turning on the bedside light.  When he realized it was Sansa, he quickly grew alert and panicked. 

“Is everything alright?  The baby?”  It was _the middle of the night_.  By rights, something should be terribly wrong for her to wake him at this time, but the smile he could now see on her face said otherwise. 

Sansa walked over and sat next to him on the bed.  Jon pulled the covers up discreetly, noting that she clearly wasn’t wearing a bra underneath her pyjamas.  She reached out and grabbed his hand. 

“The baby, Jon!  I can feel our little nugget moving!”  Sansa lifted her pyjama top slightly and placed his hand on her cool, bare belly.  “I know it isn’t much, but this is the first time I’ve been able to feel something more than a little flutter!”

“ _Sansa_ ”, he breathed. 

She may say _it isn’t much_ , but to Jon it was _everything_.  It was every skipped heartbeat and awestruck sigh and dumbstruck squeeze on his core he’d felt since Sansa had told him about the baby and then some.  To actually feel their little nugget move inside her…..Jon had never felt more right about what he and Sansa were doing than he did in that moment.  The wonder he’d felt the first time she pressed her hand to his belly all those weeks ago was nothing to this.

“Wow”, he murmured when he could no longer feel the movement with his hand.  It had been brief, but it was everything.  He’d never felt more protective over, and desperate to meet, another person before.  This child was as much a part of him as he or she was a part of Sansa. 

He gazed up at Sansa and saw the wonder he felt reflected in her eyes. 

“Isn’t it amazing?”  She seemed close to tears and Jon could hardly blame her.  This was tugging at his heartstrings too.  He couldn’t wait until they could properly feel the baby kick.

“Yeah”, Jon replied.  “Yeah, it is.”

He couldn’t find the words to express accurately how feeling those small tiny flutters of movement with the palm of his hand had reduced him to jelly.  It was probably for the best he was lying down, because he doubted his legs were strong enough to walk. 

Sansa’s eyes glowed in the dim light his bedside lamp afforded them.  Jon thought she looked simply beautiful. 

“I know it seems silly, but now that we can feel our little nugget it seems – I don’t know – like everything’s that little bit more real?”  Sansa bit her lip, and Jon wanted nothing more than to reach up and swipe his thumb along it.  Composing himself, he nodded. 

“It does feel more real”, Jon agreed.  His hand remained on her belly, their hands still entwined, but Sansa made no move to change that. 

Her eyes fluttered closed and she hummed softly.  “I can’t wait until the baby is finally here.”

“Me too”, said Jon. 

As he lay next to Sansa, his thumb caressing her belly, Jon finally admitted to himself something that part of him had known and been repressing for a while now. 

He was in love with Sansa Stark. 


	17. Seventeen - Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa confides in Margaery

“Do you have much planned for today?”  Sansa asked Jon at the breakfast table.  It was a Saturday morning, and for the first time since they moved in together, it was not one they planned to spend with each other.  Margaery had made Sansa promise to spend the day with her instead. 

“Work”, Jon sighed.  He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.  The next round of interviews for the job he desperately wanted to land was only a few days away.  Sansa poured two glasses of fruit juice and placed one in front of Jon. 

“Just as long as you don’t work too hard.  Whenever I was studying for a big exam, dad used to tell me that there was such a thing as being over-prepared.”  Jon smiled up at her.  Sansa worried about Jon sometimes, about how hard he worked.  It didn’t strike her as particularly healthy.  That said, she knew if Jon got this job then it would give him more stable hours and a better life/work balance. 

“Thank you.  And I won’t be working all day.  I need to swing by Sam’s to borrow some books.  Also, I promised I’d go over and give Edd some help with a few things this afternoon.  He’s still got that bloody cast on his arm.  I’ll need to take him to the grocery store, so if there’s anything you want or need then I can pick it up for you”, Jon offered.  Sansa nodded. 

Distracted by thoughts of Jon, she grabbed the necessary ingredients and started making blueberry pancakes for their breakfast.  Sansa had recently discovered they were a favourite of Jon’s and was putting her knowledge to good use.  She wasn’t sure, however, if the indecent noises he made while eating said pancakes were a good or a bad thing. 

_Expectant Mother_ had helped her control her urges around Jon, having given her management techniques, but it had been no use whatsoever in getting rid of them – though Sansa doubted anything would. 

Cracking open the eggs, Sansa hummed along to the radio and thought back to the previous Saturday when she’d practically run into Jon’s bedroom in the middle of the night so he could feel the light fluttering in her belly.  Sansa had fallen asleep on Jon’s bed and woken the next morning to find he’d wrapped the duvet around her. 

As seemed to be the case with so many of Jon’s gestures now, it had both touched and frustrated her.  Although she loved his tenderness, she also loved the idea of him fucking her brains out.  Although she’d loved waking as she had, she’d also have loved waking to find his hand fondling her breast.  From what Sansa could remember of the night their child had been conceived, Jon was _good_.  He was _the best she’d ever had_ good.  And Sansa wanted more of that. 

She wanted Jon to fuck her and then she wanted him to hold her all night long. 

Her hormones were the main topic she wanted to bring up with Margaery.  Her friend could be incredibly blunt, almost painfully so at times, but she spoke the truth and she cared.  Sansa needed her advice on Jon now more than ever. 

“That smells amazing”, Jon told her, cutting into her thoughts as the batter began to take shape. 

“Good.”  Sansa looked over at Jon, sitting at the table and reading through something on his iPad.  He’d either not put his contacts in yet or decided to forego them for the day, as she noticed he did from time to time.  She quite liked him in those glasses.  They gave Jon a hot nerd look that hit Sansa right between her legs. 

Hot nerd Jon was a version of him that she’d fantasised about a few times recently.  In those fantasies Jon was indecently good to her, worshipping her cunt as if it were the holy grail.

Sansa scratched the back of her neck and suppressed the whimper making its way up her throat.  She remembered the advice given in _Expectant Mother_ and slowed her breathing, counting to ten a few times and then focusing on something else – in this case, the pancakes that were almost ready.

She set the table, putting out the syrup from the fridge and some of the sliced strawberries she’d cut the night before, and then flipped the pancakes onto the new plates she and Jon had chosen together. 

“Breakfast”, she told him happily.  Jon set the iPad aside and all Sansa could think was how right this felt, making Jon his favourite breakfast on a Saturday and sitting down with him to talk about the day ahead.

********** 

It was soon clear to Sansa that Margaery had a full day planned for them, albeit one they would undertake at what Marge assured her was a slow and leisurely pace.  After a quick manicure at Ros’s, Marge took Sansa to Mother’s Boutique, a new store which specialized in maternity wear. 

Looking around the store, Sansa was slightly shocked to see such beautiful items of clothing on display.  She had always assumed – wrongly, she now saw – that maternity wear was frumpy and unstylish.  Sansa looked at the dress she wore, covered with a warm flannel shirt she’d taken from Jon’s laundry pile, and wondered if Marge was staging some sort of fashion intervention. 

“I want to treat you”, Marge told her as they perused the clothes racks.  “Aly told me about this place.  She used to work with one of their designers.  Being pregnant no longer means nine months of bad fashion choices.”

“Thanks”, Sansa grinned.  In truth, she liked that Marge – someone who had never really struck her as the maternal sort – viewed her pregnancy as a fashion opportunity rather than the end of Sansa’s relationship with what she saw as good clothes.

Sansa picked up a pretty blue dress, with little white roses around the cuffs and neckline.  It was stunning and would look great in a month or so, once the weather started to warm up a little.  She held onto it and moved on, quickly finding a pair of maternity jeans that didn’t look hideous, and a green skirt. 

“I think I’ll try these on”, she told Margaery, indicating the clothes she carried. 

“An excellent start!”  Margaery seemed to approve, and followed Sansa to the changing rooms. 

Sansa walked into the booth and stripped down to her bra, panties and tights.  She took a moment to glance in the full-length mirror and note the way in which her shape had changed over the last few months.  Her bump was growing every day and was clear to anyone who looked at her. 

She ran her hands gently over her bump and sighed happily.  When Sansa thought back to all the healthy-eating and exercise crazes she’d embraced over the years, she’d never thought that seeing herself gain weight would be so satisfying.  Now, she made sure she ate what the baby needed and simply went to her pre-natal yoga class on Tuesday nights. 

Catching sight of her breasts in the mirror, Sansa noted that they’d grown enough that the bra she wore seemed a little tight.  She’d most likely gone up a cup size and decided to ask the sales assistant to measure her to confirm it.  Sansa hoped the woman would be gentle – her breasts seemed to become increasingly sensitive as time passed. 

Trying the three items on one by one, Sansa decided to take them all (though she wouldn’t let Marge treat her to more than one of them) and told Margaery so. 

“Can you call the sales assistant over?”  Sansa explained her dilemma, and Margaery’s eyes lit up.  Sansa rolled her own as she watched her friend walk away.  Lingerie shopping had always been a favourite of Marge’s.  Sansa suspected her friend probably owned enough sets to only wear them once a month. 

Marge was going to end up a tad disappointed, though.  Sansa fully intended to return to her old size after the baby was born, and therefore would be looking for functional rather than flirtatious bras.  She hardly needed the latter.  After all, she and Jon were not together, Sansa thought sadly.

She thought of the potential flirtatious bras – the non-practical, but pretty, ones Marge would try to tempt her with.  She thought of modelling them for Jon and having him remove them with his teeth, of having him swipe his fingers over her tender, covered nipples, of having his mouth on the top of her breasts. 

Sansa sighed happily at the thought of her vibrator, waiting for her at home.  She’d have to remember to stop off at the store on her way home to buy new batteries for it.  The ones currently keeping it going were about to go, and while Jon had offered to pick up anything she needed, Sansa didn’t want to have to explain to him _why_ she needed batteries.  Not that he would have, she mused.  Jon wasn’t nosy like that. 

“Bra measurement?”  Sansa was interrupted by the return of Margaery, sales assistant in tow.  Sansa nodded at the woman, and stood still to allow her an accurate reading. 

“Hmm.  And what size were you before you fell pregnant?”  Sansa told the woman.  “Yes, you’ve gone up a cup size.  A good excuse to buy some new ones!”

“I agree!”  Sansa laughed as Margaery’s voice gave her resounding approval from just outside the booth. 

Sansa advised the sales assistant she’d be taking the clothes she had tried on, and the woman offered to place them at the check-out for her, so Sansa wouldn’t need to carry them around.  Relieved of her burden, Sansa allowed Margaery to direct her to the lingerie section of the store. 

As predicted, her friend was not amused when Sansa announced her intention to buy simple white bras, and only a couple of them with hints of lace. 

“No”, Margaery protested in a forceful tone.  “I am sorry, Sansa, but such things are a crime against your figure.  You should take advantage of these new curves of yours and show them off at their best, not hide them behind some gods-awful thing your scary Aunt Lysa would wear.”

Sansa couldn’t help the laughter escape her at that.  “But, I’ll only need them for a few months – perhaps less if I go up another cup size, which wouldn’t be impossible – and it isn’t like I’ve got anyone to wear pretty lingerie _for_.  It’s only me that knows what bra I put on in the morning.”

Margaery sighed, then ticked off her points with her fingers.  “Firstly, you should wear pretty underwear for yourself and not for a man.  Secondly, pretty lingerie makes a woman feel confident.  Thirdly, unless you do your laundry in secret, there IS someone who knows what you wear every day.  Fourthly, the way said someone looks at you makes me think he’d appreciate a show.”

Sansa felt an unspeakable sadness at Margaery’s last point, for she doubted it was the truth.  If Jon looked at her any differently than he had before it was because she was the mother of his child, not because he was attracted to her.  She told Marge that, and her friend must’ve picked up the sadness in her voice. 

“We’ll speak on that more later, sweetie, once you’ve chosen some nice underthings.” 

Margaery Tyrell had never been someone crossed lightly and it was therefore inevitable that Sansa left the store with the three items she’d tried on, as well as the best part of a dozen new lingerie sets – only two of which were white, as Sansa had insisted she needed them for work (they were, however, very lacy and Marge-approved).

********** 

Towards the end of the afternoon, following a long late lunch at the Arbor, Margaery took Sansa back to the apartment.  Later, when she thought back on their conversation, Sansa found relief in Megga having taken on a double shift at Wintertown General. 

Looking around the apartment she had lived in for more than two years, Sansa felt very much as if it belonged to her past.  It wasn’t home any longer; the cottage was home now.  The cottage……..and Jon.

Margaery poured her a cup of decaf coffee – most likely, Sansa thought, from a jar she’d left at the apartment – and sat opposite her with a large glass of wine.  Sansa found she didn’t mind that, found that she didn’t miss the wine. 

“I hope you had fun today”, Margaery told her, playing with the large silver ring on her right hand, wrought in the shape of a rose.  Sansa snorted.  One of Margaery’s life goals was to ensure that everyone _had fun_. 

“I did”, Sansa decided.  She’d enjoyed the normalcy of going for a manicure, then shopping and lunch with Margaery.  It had been just like old times, only this time they’d gone shopping for maternity wear.  Sansa could still get into some of her clothes, though, and she was determined to keep wearing them until she couldn’t.

“Good.  So, how is it living in that beautiful cottage of yours?  It looked absolutely stunning when I came over to visit, and I’m sure it looks even better now that all the boxes are out of the way.”  Sansa laughed at that.  Marge had come over after work three or four days after she and Jon had moved in.  Jon had been very sweet, bringing them coffee before making himself scarce to unpack further. 

Sansa considered her response.  Which did she give – the true one, or the publicly acceptable one?  Sansa decided on a middle course.  “It’s been amazing, getting everything settled and planned for the baby.  I never could’ve stayed here.  It just wouldn’t have been practical, Marge.  Jon and I are getting on great – though, I have to admit, he’s even worse than you for not letting me do anything.”

“Sounds like he’s been treating you like a precious princess”, said Margaery, her eyes sparkling.  But Sansa found her friend’s words brought her to tears.  “Sansa?  What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“He does treat me like a precious princess”, she sobbed.  “One he’d like to wrap up in cotton wool!”

“And that’s a bad thing because……..?”  Marge looked at her quizzically.  She had been with Sansa through the Joff and Harry disasters.  And had told Sansa many, many times that she deserved a better man.  One who would look after her properly.

Sansa wiped away the tears falling down her cheeks.  “I’m sorry.  It’s been such a great day, and now – my hormones are completely messing me up, Marge.” 

Margaery laughed and pulled her into a tight hug.

“I mean it”, Sansa insisted.  “I never knew pregnancy would mess me up this much.  And all Doc. Luwin does is tell me it’s all _normal_.  _Normal_.  How can it be normal for the slightest thing to get me so bloody horny?”

Margaery began to shake with laughter and set down her glass of wine, lest she spill any of it. 

“It’s not funny!” Sansa whined.  “It’s not!  Marge!  Seriously.  It’s – at first I thought it was a latent attraction thing coming to the fore because I should be nesting, and he’s the father of my child.  But, Marge, I’ve got that vibrator out at least once a day every day.  I’m daydreaming about having sex with him in every room of that cottage, up against every surface in that cottage and in every way imaginable!”

“Maybe you should tell him that.”  Sansa scoffed.  She couldn’t tell Jon!  It would make everything so awkward and she told Margaery that.  Besides, Jon didn’t feel that way about her.  Not really.  He’d just needed comfort that night and she’d been there.  “I beg to differ.”

“But, Marge – “

“But nothing”, Margaery said firmly.  She took Sansa’s hands in hers.  “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.  That kiss you had at New Year’s – “

“Was nothing”, Sansa protested, though she wished it could’ve been something.  It had been so distracting afterwards, sitting next to him and her legs brushing against his, while they spoke to an inebriated Arya on Skype.  “It was a quick peck on the lips.  No tongue.”

“Well, it was the hottest peck on the lips I’ve ever seen.  Seriously.  He looks at you like you’re everything to him, and not just because you’re carrying his child.  You should model that lingerie we bought today for Jon.  He’d love it!  Besides, he’s the one who got you pregnant.  It seems to me that if he’s the one responsible for your pregnancy hormones, then he should be the one to do something about it.”

Sansa just about choked at that.  Ask Jon to get her off?  She wouldn’t know how to start that conversation.  At least, not sober.  And in her condition, asking him drunk was a non-starter. 

“You think I should ask Jon to sleep with me?”

“He doesn’t have to have sex with you to get you off.  I remember what you said to me when you finally ‘fessed up that you’d done more than spend the night on Jon Snow’s sofa.  He can get you off well enough by going down on you.”

Sansa managed to stop the whimper she was halfway through letting out at the thought of that, of Jon going down on her again and again and again.  Oh, wouldn’t it be glorious?  She’d never have the courage to ask him, but Marge was right.  It would be so, so good. 

When she came out of her thoughts, Sansa sighed.  She turned to her friend and, for the first time, admitted aloud something she’d been feeling and repressing for a while.  “Marge?  I’m really, properly falling for him.”

Margaery hugged her again.  “I know, sweetie.  I know.”

**********

Sansa had thought about Jon all the way back home to the cottage.  She’d felt awful when he seemed genuinely interested in what she’d bought at the maternity store, and all she’d been able to do was mutter something about jeans, a skirt and a dress.

Given they did laundry in the same room of the house, she knew Jon was well aware that she wore bras and panties.  But she knew that it’d start off her fantasies again if she told him of her other purchases. 

“How was your day?”  Sansa asked him. 

“Pretty good.  Oh, I got that citrus fabric softener you like.  It was on special offer, so I thought we should stock up.  And I got everything else you asked for.”  Jon left her in the living area and went through to the kitchen, returning a moment later.  “And……I also got lemon cakes.”

Sansa felt herself well up again.  It had been a bit of a rollercoaster today.  “Oh, Jon. Thank you so much!”

He looked at her a tad awkwardly.  “They’re only lemon cakes.  Also, Gilly told me to remind you to come over and visit whenever you want.  And Little Sam sends you a big hug.”

“He’s such a sweet little thing”, Sansa sighed.  “I hope our little nugget is just as sweet.”

“Of course he or she will be.”  Jon sounded so confident.  “How could they not be with you as their mother?”

Sansa could do nothing more than nod and excuse herself to put away her shopping. 

**********

Later that evening, after they’d watched a movie together over some popcorn, Sansa excused herself.  In hindsight, watching a movie about a torrid historical romance with Jon had not, perhaps, been the best of ideas.  Sansa was itching to get upstairs and use her vibrator as she re-imagined just about every scene in the movie, with herself and Jon in place of the real characters.  They should’ve picked out a DVD rather than watched what was on TV.

It wasn’t until she got upstairs, however, that Sansa realized she hadn’t stopped off at the store herself on the way home from Marge’s.  She’d been so caught up in what Marge had said about Jon (almost all of which Sansa considered to be wishful thinking) that she’d forgotten to pick up more batteries.  The grocery store was open on Sundays, so she could get more tomorrow, but was there enough left to help her out tonight?  Sansa hoped so. 

After using the bathroom, Sansa quickly discarded her clothes and slipped into a fresh pair of panties and a long Blue Bard t-shirt that reached her knees.  Tying her hair back in a high ponytail, she walked over to her bedside drawers and pulled out her vibrator. 

Before she left that afternoon, Margaery had reminded Sansa that this was the best vibrator around – and that was why she’d chosen it.

Sansa propped herself up on the bed with her pillows and a few cushions, and gently began to touch her nipples through the cotton of her t-shirt.  She closed her eyes and imagined Jon doing this to her as they kissed hungrily, sloppily.  She imagined him tearing open her t-shirt, blowing cool air on her nipples and then taking one of them, and then the other, into his mouth. 

She moaned, rubbing her legs together in an effort to create friction, and mouthed his name.  Sansa never let herself go enough to shout it as loud as she wanted to.  She’d whispered it a time or two, but most of the time she mouthed it.  It was a shame.  Sansa loved how his name sounded coming from her mouth. 

Her hand reached down and dipped beneath her panties, parting her lower lips……

_She imagined riding Jon, as he moved deeper and deeper inside her.  She imagined him taking her from behind in the shower.  She imagined him pounding into her on the kitchen table._

Her fingers found her clit and began to circle it…….

_She imagined him ripping off her favourite baby-doll nightgown and taking her hungrily in his mouth.  She imagined him nosing his way into her cunt and inhaling her scent.  She imagined him fucking her with his fingers, then his tongue, then his cock._

“ _Oh_ ”, she moaned.  In her dreams, it was always _good_.  In her dreams Jon made her _fly_.  In her dreams, Jon was _everything_ she had ever wanted and then some.

Sansa reached out for the vibrator and turned it on.  It made a soft whirring noise and she lowered it to her opening.  She always liked to allow herself to get used to the sensation slowly.  This time, though, it didn’t feel as good as usual.  The movement wasn’t quite there. 

“Oh, shit”, Sansa muttered.  She sat up properly, in a panic, and looked at the vibrator.  It definitely wasn’t moving as much as it normally did.  Those batteries must’ve been a necessity.

“Why tonight?!  Why now?!” Sansa sobbed, almost shouting in frustration.  She’d started feeling like she was getting somewhere.  “Urgh, you stupid thing!  Why won’t you just work?!”

There was a knock on her door.  “Sansa? Is….is everything alright?  Are you okay?”

Of course, Jon would choose now to check on her.  Why not?

“I’m fine”, she said weakly. 

“You don’t sound fine.  Is it – are you sure I can’t help you with anything?”  Sansa sighed.  She obviously wasn’t getting back to finding her pleasure anytime soon, and so she set the vibrator aside and went to open the door.

Swiping away her tears, Sansa opened her bedroom door to find Jon standing on the other side.  He had tied his hair up earlier to make dinner, but seemed to have let it down again now.  Sansa closed her eyes and flashed on a memory of her running her fingers through those unruly curls of his while his mouth pleasured her. 

“Are you alright?  I thought I heard you crying?”  He looked a little nervous and Sansa wanted to take him in her arms. 

“Sorry”, she apologized.  “I just……my hormones are all over the place at the moment.”

At least that was the truth, Sansa thought as she sighed heavily.  The tears started again, and Jon wrapped his arms around her.

“Hey, I’ve got you.  Hush now”, he murmured gently.  Sansa leaned into him as closely as she could.  She had to stop herself from all but dry humping his leg like a dog. 

She wasn’t sure how long they stood there in each other’s arms, but it was long enough to calm Sansa and stop the tears.  In the end, she took Jon by the hand and went to sit on her bed.  It was time to admit to at least some of the hormonal issues she’d been experiencing.  After all, Jon lived with her, and that meant he was the person most likely to be affected by it. 

Jon kept hold of her hand as they sat down.  He gazed at her and Sansa wished she could read his look. 

“You don’t need to keep anything to do with the baby to yourself”, Jon told her, rubbing circles in her palm.  “I mean it.  I want to help you with the silly stuff as well as the serious.”

Sansa found herself laughing at that.  She nodded.  “It’s just my hormones.  They make me a little emotional at times.  Remember when I told you that Margaery and I had to stop watching the evening news because it made me cry?”

Jon joined in her laughter. 

“Yeah, I remember.  But, listen, I want to understand more.  That’s why – do you remember I said I had to swing by Sam’s today?”  Sansa nodded again, curious.  “Well, I went to pick up some books he said he’d lend me.  They’re sort of like the one you got – _Expectant Mother_ – only from the father’s point of view.  As in, how to help.”

Sansa stifled a small sense of panic.  “Oh.  Have you started them yet?”

“No.  I didn’t get a chance.  I spent so long at Edd’s that I only got back a half hour or so before you did.”  Jon shuffled slightly on the bed.  “Ouch!” 

He moved back again, realizing he was sitting on something.  Sansa wondered if there was a greater mortification than watching Jon pick up the offending item and realize he was holding her vibrator.  He turned as red as her hair and Sansa found herself able to take comfort in the fact that he seemed to be as embarrassed about it as she was. 

“It – the batteries ran out.  So, something you’ll likely learn reading one of those books Sam lent you – hormones send pregnant women horny as hell”, she joked, hoping humour might get them out of this situation.  Jon started fidgeting with the bottom of his t-shirt. 

“Oh.”

“I tried talking to Marge about it.”

“Oh?”  Jon’s brain seemed to be jammed, leaving Sansa increasingly nervous. 

“Yeah.  But, you know Marge – blunt as ever.  She said I should ask you to help me get off, ask you to go down on me, said that you were the one who got me into this situation in the first place and therefore it was your responsibility, or something like that”, Sansa blurted out.  When the words left her lips, her first thought was that she wished they hadn’t.

“ _Oh_ ”, Jon repeated, though his tone was different this time.   

“You know what Marge is like.”

“Yeah.”  Now Sansa’s brain was the one short-circuiting.  Yeah, what?

“Jon, she didn’t – “

“I guess, I mean I could – “

Sansa looked at him, gazing into his eyes and trying to read them.  She thought she saw conflict, but there seemed to be resolution in his hesitancy. 

Jon took her hand in his again.  “Margaery is right.  I’m the one who got you pregnant.  I wouldn’t force – if you don’t want me to, then – ”

“No, it’s alright”, Sansa told him softly.  She turned around and leaned back against the pillows and cushions as she had earlier, her heart beating at what felt like a thousand miles a minute.  Jon Snow was about to go down on her. 

What settled Sansa was the nerves she saw reflected in Jon’s own face.  He knew as well as she did that in some ways they were crossing a line.  A line that they might not be able to redraw.  And yet, Sansa couldn’t find it within herself to care.  She wanted Jon’s mouth on her.  She wanted him.  _All_ of him. 

She nodded, letting Jon know he could go ahead, and he reached up to pull her panties down her legs.  They were tossed in the direction of the rest of the clothes she’d worn that day.  Sansa sighed softly and relaxed. 

Sansa started to cant her hips upwards slightly as Jon grabbed the back of her thighs and pulled them towards him.  He removed a hand momentarily to push her t-shirt up higher, exposing her belly but not her breasts.  Jon seemed to hesitate, but then moved towards her belly.

He kissed his way down her bump reverently, in such a way that it almost brought tears to Sansa’s eyes.  His hands travelled up and down her thighs and Sansa started to feel it at her core.  She moaned, and Jon seemed to take that as encouragement. 

His mouth moved now and he kissed his way up and down her inner thighs.  Sansa whined loudly.  She’d asked Jon to do this to relieve the tension she felt, not to increase it!  But it felt so good that she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to stop.  It was everything she remembered from their drunken night together and then some…….and they were only just getting started. 

Finally, his mouth reached her lower lips.  Sansa’s breath hitched, releasing happily when she felt Jon’s fingers part them and his tongue entered her.  She moaned loudly, no longer needing to hide her pleasure from him.  “ _Yes.  Oh, yes.  More……_ ”

Jon increased the pressure, massaging her clit with his tongue.  Sansa wanted to scream his name out as she felt the familiar coil begin to appear in her belly.  Oh, gods, but he was so, so good at this!  If Sansa could only have one man’s mouth on her for the rest of her life, it would be that of Jon Snow. 

As he alternately rubbed gentle circles into her thighs and ran his hands far enough up them to squeeze her ass, and fucked her with his tongue, Sansa felt her orgasm build and build.  This was so much better than the gift from Margaery, reputedly the best vibrator in Westeros. 

At some point, she wasn’t quite sure when, her fingers relinquished their grip on the duvet and moved to Jon’s curls.  She climbed and climbed and climbed towards her peak, feeling Jon relentlessly fulfilling his desire to help her. 

Now that the moment was here, Sansa wasn’t sure if she even cared about any awkwardness in the morning.  She just wanted this all night, every night, for the rest of her life.  Jon was gentle yet demanding, strong yet soft, anything and everything all at the same time. 

He brought her to her climax twice with his tongue, and added in his fingers as he went for a third.  By this time, Sansa was sobbing and moaning, relieved and aching, screaming for more and at a loss for words all at once.  She pushed to the back of her mind any thoughts of this not happening again because she simply couldn’t bear it. 

In some ways this changed everything and in others nothing.  But, later that night, as sleep caught up with her while Jon watched over her, Sansa wasn’t sure whether blurting out Margaery’s words had been the best or worst thing she could’ve done. 

All she knew was that what came after felt so, so _right_.


	18. Eighteen - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finally gets an answer on his promotion hopes.

Jon set aside the file he was working on, for the Ryswell case, and sighed heavily. 

It had been two weeks since the night he’d overheard Sansa crying as he went to bed.  Two weeks since she’d admitted the problems her hormones were giving her.  Two weeks since he’d agreed to help her out.  He snorted.  _Help her out_.  That was nothing more than a euphemism for going down on her on nigh on a nightly basis. 

Even now, when he thought back on it, Jon still wasn’t sure how serious she’d been that night.  How much it was _Sansa_ who wanted it and how much it was her hormones.  He rubbed his temple and closed his eyes.  He could still remember the look of embarrassment she’d had those first couple of nights, until it became clear that his ministrations relaxed her. 

Part of him, the part that felt incredibly guilty about how much he enjoyed it, wished he hadn’t agreed to dinner with Robb and Jeyne.  He hated the thought of sitting opposite Robb, who was trying so hard to repair their friendship, knowing that when they parted ways he would go home and most likely have his mouth on Sansa’s cunt.

Jon coughed, willing himself not to get hard at work. 

The thing was, Jon enjoyed it.  He enjoyed having his mouth between Sansa’s legs, swiping his tongue up and down her slit, sucking on her clit and caressing her thighs and ass.  He wanted that every night for the rest of his life.  He wanted more. 

Ever since the night she’d pressed his hand to her belly and he’d felt his child move, Jon had stopped trying to repress his feelings for Sansa.  They were what they were and he wouldn’t deny it to himself any longer.  He was in love with her. 

And, in a way, it was the extent of his feelings that had awakened Jon’s sense of guilt.  Was he betraying Sansa’s trust by hiding how he truly felt while they did this?  Jon didn’t know.  He did know that he couldn’t allow himself to get carried away.  That was why he had given himself very narrow perimeters.  Sansa had said Margaery’s idea was for him to go down on her, and that was what he was sticking to.  In the fortnight since they’d started this, neither Jon’s hands nor his mouth had ventured north of her belly button or south of her knees. 

However much he had wanted to. 

Then there was after.  As much as he enjoyed pleasuring Sansa and seeing her come undone at his touch, he also enjoyed the bit afterwards as he wrapped his arm around Sansa and held her until she fell asleep.  More than ever, Jon wanted the situation with Sansa to be real.  He wanted her in his life, in his bed and in his heart. 

By rights, everything between them should be awkward as all seven hells, but it wasn’t.  There had been a moment the morning after that first time when he had gone down to breakfast and not known what to say, and Sansa had taken pity on him by starting a conversation about a local human interest story she’d heard on the radio.  And then, that night, when she’d looked back at him and said she was going upstairs…...there had been a slight hesitancy there, as if she thought he might not follow her. 

A fortnight on, all that had really changed was that going down on Sansa had become part of his nightly routine. 

Jon sighed again.  This was starting to mess with his head. 

The telephone rang, and cut into Jon’s thoughts.   He saw the light that indicated it was Alys calling him.  “Hey, Alys.”

“I’ve got Alysanne on the line for you”, she told him.  Jon perked up at that.  He wondered if it was in relation to the job he’d applied for.  It had been more than a week now since the second and final round of interviews, and Mormont had yet to make an announcement. 

“Thanks, Alys.  You can put her through.”  Jon moved over the file he had set aside and waited for Alys to put the call through. 

“Snow, can you make your way to our end of the floor, please?  The Old Bear would like a word.”

“Of course”, Jon replied instantly.  He quickly smarted himself up and took a deep breath in before leaving his office.  Alys gave him a quick fingers crossed gesture of support. 

The walk to Mormont’s office seemed to take a little longer than it had before, but he was still grateful to see Alysanne when he got there.  Her face was blank, leaving Jon’s palms sweating.  He really wanted this job.  Although he’d never had to consider such factors when applying for it, it’d give him an opportunity to work from home at times if he wished to.  And with the baby arriving in a few short months, Jon knew that was something he’d like to do regularly to spend as much time as possible with his first-born.  

Alysanne knocked on Mormont’s door, and let him in. 

“Snow, good of you to come quickly”, said Mormont.  Jon heard Alysanne close the door over behind him.  “Sit, sit.  Now, I wanted to speak to you before I make an announcement.”

Jon’s heart sank at that.  It sounded a lot like _you were almost there; it was really tight between you and the person I’ve given the job to_. 

“There were a lot of candidates, good candidates, from both inside the firm and outside.  Many of them were experienced men and women.  In the end, however, I’ve decided to go with potential and commitment over experience.  I want you to be my new Pro-Bono Assistant Head.”  Jon gulped.  He’d wanted the job so badly that part of him had psyched himself up to not get it. 

“Wow”, he gasped.  “Thank you, sir.  I – I – thank you.  It means a lot to me, it really does.”

Mormont stood up and held out his hand.  “You’ll do a good job, Snow.  I have complete faith in you.  I’ll send out an e-mail making a formal announcement later this afternoon, but I wanted you to know first.  We’ll speak on Monday to iron out the details, as it were.”

“Yes, sir.”  Jon walked out of the room, astonished at his good fortune. 

“Congratulations”, Alysanne grinned at him. 

“Thanks.”

Jon walked back to his office, his mind going at a hundred miles an hour as he contemplated some of the ideas he’d had about what he could do if he was successful.  He’d be working closely with the PBU Head, Aemon Targaryen, a man he had a lot of time and respect for.  Mr. Targaryen was close to retirement but still as sharp as a tack. 

“Well?” Alys asked as soon as she could see him.  Jon nodded.  Alys clapped her hands in excitement.  “Well done!”

“I couldn’t believe it”, Jon admitted.  He thought of some of the other men who had applied.  Seasoned and experienced.  He doubted Thorne, Marsh and Slynt would be pleased. 

Back inside his office proper, Jon exhaled loudly.  He looked at the clock and saw it was a little after three thirty.  Knowing she always took her phone off silent as soon as the school day was over, Jon scrolled down his contacts list until he reached Sansa’s name. 

“Hi, Jon”, said Sansa when she answered after the second ring.  “Is everything alright?”

“I got the job!” 

Sansa squealed loudly.  “Oh, Jon, that’s fantastic news!  You absolutely deserve it!”

“I don’t know about that, but I’ve got it anyway.  I just – I just wanted to let you know.  I mean, you helped me with interview prep and stuff.”  In truth, it had been an instinct compulsion that’d had him calling her first.  She was the person he was most desperate to tell.  The first person who had come to mind to share his good news with.

“You do deserve it”, Sansa insisted.  “Well, tonight can be a celebration.”

Ah, yes, the dinner with Robb and Jeyne. 

It was meant to be the following evening, but when they’d called House of Black and White to book the table it turned out the restaurant was closed Saturday night for a private function. 

“I better go, Jon.  I’ve got a couple of things I need to do here before I leave.  I’ll see you at home.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you at home.”  Jon liked the sound of that. 

**********

Although Sansa was home first as always, Jon was ready to leave first for their dinner with Robb and Jeyne.  He went out into the hallway to shout up to Sansa that they’d need to leave soon, when he saw her coming down the stairs.  She was wearing a nervous smile and the blue dress she’d bought on her last shopping trip with Margaery. 

She looked beautiful. 

Jon smiled at her.  “First outing for the new dress, then?”

“You like it?”  Sansa bit her lip, and fidgeted with her dress.  “It’s a maternity dress.”

Ah, so that was what had her nervous.  He’d noticed that she’d started sticking to the same, small number of outfits – ones from prior to her pregnancy that she could still get into.  Jon didn’t quite know how to put it into words that she could wear a sack to dinner and still be the most beautiful woman in the world in his eyes. 

“You’re pregnant.  It’s expected that you’ll wear maternity clothes”, Jon told her gently.  “I like the roses round the edges.”

“Me too.  We should get going.”  Sansa had offered to drive them there and back so Jon could have wine with his dinner.  He’d tried to protest, but in truth he felt he’d need a glass or two to get him through the night.  Jon hoped Robb wouldn’t be able to figure out the developments between him and Sansa just by looking in his direction. 

“We should”, Jon agreed.  He helped Sansa put her winter coat on and went to switch off the TV in the living room.  “Right.”

**********

Although Jon had worried about them being late, they arrived at the restaurant more than ten minutes before Robb and Jeyne. 

“Sorry, I got held up at work”, Jeyne apologized as she took off her coat.  She worked in Human Resources and often had to stay late at the office on short notice.  She lifted the menu and started looking through it.  “Have you already decided what you’re having?”

“Yeah, we’re just going to have the same as last time”, Sansa replied.  Robb perked up. 

“You’ve been here before?” he asked Jon. 

“This is where we came for dinner to celebrate getting the cottage”, Jon told him. 

“Ah, good timing”, said Sansa.  “Of course, tonight we have another – “

“Your champagne.”  Jon gave the waiter a puzzled look.  They hadn’t ordered a bottle of champagne.  It must have come to the wrong table by mistake.  He was about to point that out when Sansa spoke.

“As I said, good timing.  Thank you.  I can’t have any, but if you could fill the other three glasses, please”, she said.  Jon raised an eyebrow at her.  “I told you earlier, tonight can be a celebration.”

Jon smiled at her.  “Yeah.  Yeah, you did.”

He realized then that Robb and Jeyne had no idea what they were supposed to be celebrating.  Sansa was the only person outside the firm he’d told.  “I got the job I applied for.  Mormont told me this afternoon.”

“That’s fantastic news”, enthused Robb.  “Congratulations, mate – I told you that you could do it!”

“Yep, many congrats from me, too”, added Jeyne. 

Sansa poured some water into the wine glass sitting in front of her, and raised it.  “To Jon.”

“To Jon.”

He clinked his glass to theirs, but felt a little embarrassed.  She must’ve grabbed the waiter when she excused herself to go to the bathroom, he thought.  Sansa hadn’t needed to do that, but it touched him deeply that she had.  To other diners, Jon mused, their table must look very like a double date.  Jon wished that were the case. 

“When do you start?” Robb asked him. 

“Mormont said we’d sort out the details on Monday.  I’d guess in the next couple of weeks, but it could be anything up to a month.  Have you decided on what you want yet?”

“I’m thinking about the tofu stew”, said Jeyne.  “There’s a Braavosi place back home that does it and it is _to die for_.”

**********

“We should do this more often”, said Jeyne as they waited for their post-dinner coffees. 

“I agree, but after the baby’s born it will be easier if you come over to ours”, said Jon.  He glanced at Sansa, who nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, I don’t want to abuse mum and dad’s offers to babysit.”  Ned and Catelyn had repeatedly told them both in no uncertain terms that they were top of the list whenever Jon and Sansa needed someone to look after the baby.  Jon knew that Sansa was grateful for their offer of support, but at the same time wanted to ensure that support didn’t become overbearing. 

“I doubt they’d see it that way”, Robb chuckled.  “Haven’t you seen that picture you gave them, pride of place on the mantelpiece?  Nobody gets in the house – never mind that room – without being shown it and hearing about their first grandchild.  It wouldn’t surprise me if mum claims a standing babysitting gig once a week or so.”

“Maybe”, Sansa shrugged.  “I’m going to run to the bathroom before our coffees arrive.”

As soon as Sansa was out of earshot, Jeyne pounced in on him.

“So, I need to speak to you about the baby shower next Saturday”, she began.  “I need you to get Sansa over to Ned and Catelyn’s for one.  No need to bother about lunch, Catelyn has that covered.  Just bring her, let her walk in herself, and then come and pick her and the presents up around five.  Is that alright?”

Jon took a moment to compute what she was saying.  “Yeah, that’s doable.  What happens at these things anyway?”

He had never been to a baby shower, and he couldn’t remember Gilly having one when she’d been pregnant with either of the boys.  Jon was sure Sansa would enjoy it, though.  Even if it was likely to leave her in tears. 

Jeyne rolled her eyes at him.  “We make a fuss of Sansa, eat lots of food, and give her presents for the baby.  I think Marge and Arya are planning some games, but we’ll see.  It’ll be good.  We’ve ordered a lemon cake from her favourite bakery.”

Jon smiled.  “Sansa will like that.  She’s really been craving sweet things for the last week or so.” 

He hailed the waiter as he passed, and requested the check. 

“I figured she was into sweeter things when she almost inhaled that lemon meringue pie”, said Robb.  “And half of yours.”

“I wasn’t that hungry”, Jon shrugged.  In truth, he’d ordered the same dessert as Sansa in case she did want more than her allotted portion.  He didn’t see her as greedy.  Her cravings were a normal part of pregnancy, or so the books he’d borrowed from Sam had told him. 

Along with the other cravings, the ones Jon wasn’t telling Robb about any time soon. 

“Here you are, sir.”  The waiter handed Jon the check once he’d served their coffees.  He glanced at it and called the man back. 

“This isn’t right – you forgot to put our bottle of champagne on it.”  He ignored the eye rolls Robb and Jeyne were giving him.  If they’d left off something small then it wouldn’t matter.  But a bottle of champagne was expensive and he didn’t want the waiter getting into trouble for simply forgetting to add it to the bill. 

The waiter took the check back and read it over again.  “No, it is definitely correct, sir.  Your girlfriend paid for the bottle of champagne when she ordered it from me.”

“Oh.  Sorry”, Jon muttered, feeling his neck and ears turn red.  He wished with every fibre of his being that Robb hadn’t just heard that.  “She shouldn’t have bothered buying that…..making assumptions………”

“So, what’s our share, then?” Robb asked him.  Jon smiled at his friend gratefully and handed over the check so he could calculate it.  The Robb of two or three months ago would not have done that.  The Robb of two or three months ago would have yelled at the waiter for making the assumption, or acted out in some other way.

He would not have tactfully changed the subject. 

And that just made Jon feel even guiltier about the other things going on between him and Sansa. 

Sansa came back to re-join them.  “Oh, coffees are here!  Did I miss anything?”

“The check came”, said Jon, before things could get awkward.  “Sansa, you didn’t have to buy that bottle of champagne for me.  Really.”

“I didn’t buy it because I _had_ to, I bought it because I _wanted_ to”, she told in a tone that said he wasn’t to argue back. 

“Well, thank you.”

Sansa’s phone pinged.  She read the message and then smiled, before handing him the phone.  Jon read the message from Gilly.

_Big Sam taking Little Sam to a birthday party tomorrow – would you like to come over and spend the afternoon with me and Aemon?  Gilly._

“We don’t have anything planned for tomorrow, other than grocery shopping.  You should go if you want to.”

Sansa nodded.  “Yeah, I think I will.  What about you?”

“I haven’t been to the gym in a while”, said Jon.  He felt a little guilty about that – he’d tried to go once or twice a week, but he’d been so busy lately that he’d let it slip.  At least he still went for runs.  That was something, right?

“The gym?” He thought Sansa’s voice sounded a little strangled.  And her cheeks were a little pink, though Jon knew she hadn’t had any wine. 

“Are you alright?” Robb asked her. 

“Yes”, Sansa assured her brother.  “Very……alright.”

**********

“I enjoyed tonight”, Sansa told him when they got back to the cottage.  Jon had poured them another coffee each – decaf for both of them – and liberated some lemon biscuits from the cupboard for Sansa.  The TV was on in the background, a news programme playing on low volume.  Sansa had kicked off her shoes and rubbed the balls of her feet.

It all felt so incredibly _domestic_. 

“Me too”, Jon agreed.  He’d been so worried about it but, in the end, it had turned out well.  He was so relieved that Robb hadn’t said anything about the waiter’s misunderstanding.

“I’ve decided their lemon meringue pie is the best I’ve ever tasted.”  Jon chuckled at that.  “What?  It was good – you enjoyed it, didn’t you?  I mean, you – oh, Jon, if you thought I was being greedy – “

He raised his hand to silence Sansa.  He would never, ever, call a woman greedy, least of all Sansa.  “You were not being greedy.  Think of it like this – you ate your own dessert, and the half of mine went to our little nugget.”

Sansa smiled to him at that.  Such a wide, beautiful smile with a hint of shyness in it.

“Our little nugget has good taste, then”, Sansa informed him.  “Very good taste.” 

She lay her hand on her bump.  Jon noticed that she did that a lot.  “You hear that, little nugget – you like lemon things!”

“Do you think the baby can hear us?”

“Yes”, Jon decided.  He moved a little closer to Sansa’s belly.  “You can hear us, can’t you?”

Sansa chuckled.  “I don’t think our little nugget is quite up to answering just yet.  I, uhm, I was thinking about heading upstairs now.”  She glanced at him and Jon took the cue. 

He stood up, held out a hand to Sansa and walked her up the stairs.  It had been a fortnight, but Jon’s heart still thrummed with a mix of nerves and desire at the thought of his mouth on Sansa.  And he wasn’t entirely sure he ever wanted that to change. 

When they reached Sansa’s room, Jon could see her eyes darken.  She had definitely been calmer since they’d started doing this – and that was something else Jon felt guilty about using as justification. 

Sansa closed the door behind them and turned to stare at Jon with such intensity he wanted to tear off the new dress she’d nervously put on, and spend the rest of the weekend in her bed.  He wanted to fuck her hard and fast, and then slow and soft, and then everything in between.

Jon felt himself begin to grow hard and focused his attention on Sansa.  Thinking on her nerves at wearing the maternity dress for the first time, he knelt down on the floor before her, like a supplicant before a queen, and helped remove her tights and panties. 

He could hear Sansa’s breath hitch.  Jon looked up and saw her eyes had darkened further.  Taking both as a request to continue, he placed his hands on the back of her thighs, running them up and down as Sansa began to moan.  

Jon loved the sounds Sansa made when she came undone like this.  He loved the sounds she made when he pleasured her.  Her sounds, like her taste, were so, so uniquely _Sansa_.  And Jon was prepared to make them the only sounds and the only taste he knew for as long as she wanted. 

Rubbing circles into her ass, Jon sucked on Sansa’s clit as if their lives depended on it.  He swirled his tongue around it, writing the big, small word he could not speak aloud.  _L. O. V. E._   He drank in her juices like a man who had just found an oasis in the midst of a wide desert, his soaked, glistening beard as wet as Sansa’s cunt. 

He moved his right hand from Sansa’s ass, and slid a finger inside her.  She was so wet, and although deep down Jon knew that was a result of Sansa’s hormones, he could pretend – in that moment – that it was all for him.  It was a sure-fire move towards getting his heart broken, but as he slid a second finger inside Sansa and heard a deep rumble come from the back of her throat at the sensation, Jon found he really couldn’t give a shit.

Jon brought Sansa off once, twice, thrice, until she was dependent on his hold on her to stay upright.  Every moan, every utterance of his name, of _oh, yes, more……more…….harder…….faster_ , of _oh, Jon, yes, Jon_ , every tug on his hair, it all spurred him on.

**********

When they were finished, Jon placed an arm round Sansa’s waist and helped her to the bed.  It would have been too difficult for him – for so many reasons – to explain to her verbally that she was beautiful in the maternity dress, that she was so fuckable in the maternity dress, and that he wanted to do all sorts of things to her while she wore it. 

If nothing else, Jon hoped that what they’d just done had _shown_ Sansa how desirable she still was.

“There you are.”  He got Sansa settled on the bed, and then sat down next to her.  She leaned into his side, and Jon wrapped an arm around her shoulder.  If he was honest, Jon loved this part of the night just as much as eating Sansa out. 

She looked up at him.  “Thank you.  I know it’s an odd thing to thank you for.”

Jon felt more than a tad guilty.  “No……I – I told you, I want to help out as much as I can with the baby and your pregnancy.  It might not be a way I envisaged helping out, but I made a promise to look after you.”

Sansa moved away from him slightly and opened her bedside drawer.  Jon knew what lived in there; he also knew that it hadn’t seen the light of day in a fortnight.  But Sansa pulled out something else. 

“Sherbet lemon?”  Jon chuckled softly and shook his head. 

“You’re alright.  More for you and our little nugget.”

“True”, Sansa agreed as she nestled in close to him again.  Jon was relieved that Sansa, as always, had not mentioned that he was quite clearly hard.  Most likely, she saw it as biological a reaction as her own hormones.

Once she had popped the sweet into her mouth, Sansa grabbed his hand and Jon could momentarily feel the baby move slightly again.  He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of that sensation.  It was surreal, almost, to know that the life growing in Sansa was _his_ child. 

“Jon?”  Sansa cut through his thoughts.  “Brienne told me today about a new store that’s opened up on the edge of town, not that far from the paint shop we went to.  How do you feel about going there for groceries for a change?  They should have some good starting offers.”

Jon contemplated yet another Saturday with Sansa.  “Yeah.  Yeah, that sounds great.”


	19. Nineteen - Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's family and friends throw her a surprise baby shower.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, sobbing away on a Thursday evening, Sansa had to admit that she felt a little pathetic.  It wasn’t as if she was crying over the war currently raging in Sothoryos, or the increase in poverty in Flea Bottom, or even a sad story on the news. 

In the big scheme of the world, Sansa felt silly sitting there with her torn dress in hand, wearing a pair of extra-stretch yoga pants and one of Jon’s over-sized flannel shirts.  It was a beautiful shade of green, though, and had always made her think of autumn.  And it wasn’t just the dress itself, but what the dress _represented_.

It had been the last piece of clothing – aside from her extra-stretch yoga pants – that Sansa could still squeeze into.  All of her work clothes now officially came from the maternity wear part of her wardrobe.  Her bump had grown quite a bit over the last few weeks and it had meant she could no longer fit into things that had been loose and floaty, never mind those that had fitted her like a glove. 

She brushed a tear aside and took another bite out of one of the lemon cakes Jon had brought home with him the night before.  There had been a charity bake sale at Mormont and Associates to raise money for a local women’s refuge, and Jon had bought out the home-made lemon cakes.  They were actually very good.  Sansa had eaten a couple after dinner and then forced herself to put the rest away. 

In her sadness at not fitting into her clothes and tearing her green dress, Sansa had decided she was in need of a lemon cake. 

At least Jon would be home soon.  Jon would be able to cheer her up somehow.  She’d been so nervous last Friday, coming down to go out for dinner, wearing the maternity dress.  And then…….gods, Sansa had been so turned on when he’d all but dived up her maternity dress and made sure she still felt desirable. 

He had been so sexy and sweet at the same time. 

Sansa thought back to what she’d said to Marge after their first maternity wear shopping trip, almost a month ago.  _Marge?  I’m really, properly falling for him_.  Now, Sansa realized that had been a big fat lie.  A more accurate representation of the truth would have been _Marge?  I’ve really, properly fallen for him_. 

With her hormones and them living together and doing what they were doing every night, Sansa knew that was something she should really keep to herself.

At that moment, Jon walked through the door with a big grin on his face.  Sansa knew how excited he was about starting his new post in the coming weeks.  The grin fell, however, as soon as he caught sight of her tears – tears that multiplied when he crouched down next to her.

“What’s wrong?  Did something happen?”  She watched his eyes take in the dress she still held in her hands. 

“My dress tore!  I really loved it.  I mean, mum will probably be able to fix it and all, but Jon – Jon, it was _the last one_ ”, she all but wailed. 

“Hey, come here.”  Jon wrapped his warm, comforting arms around Sansa, holding her until she no longer shook with her sobs.  He moved back and brushed away her tears.  Jon didn’t tell her it was _only a dress_ , one that could be fixed, and that she had others.  He didn’t tell her she was being silly or that she was letting her pregnancy hormones rule her. 

“So, looks to me like you have an excuse to go shopping with Margaery again.  You should get her to move into maternity wear – there will always be a market for that.”  Sansa giggled lightly, and felt a slight smile begin to grow.  “How about we go out for dinner?  My treat.  It’ll save us actually cooking.  And cleaning up after.”

Sansa looked down at the black yoga pants and black and white checked flannel shirt.  “I’m hardly dressed for going out.”

Jon simply shrugged.  “We can go to The Merchant’s House.  No dress code and good food.  And they have that lemon chicken dish you love.”

Sansa found herself swayed, and nodded.  It would only take five minutes to sort out her make-up and brush her hair.  Jon wasn’t treating her, though.  They would go 50/50 on the meal whether he liked it or not.

**********

On Saturday morning, Sansa was slightly confused by Jon.  He seemed a little nervous about something and she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.  When she confronted him about it, he admitted it was nervous excitement about starting his new post.  And yet, Sansa couldn’t help but think there was something more to it. 

Perhaps he would talk to her more if they stopped off somewhere on their outing as Jon had suggested.  He was taking her to a new exhibit at the Wintertown History Museum.  It was about the North during the War of the Five Kings – one of the historical periods Sansa had always loved.  As a girl, she’d played make-believe that she was one of the Starks who had lived then.  It had been a child’s fancy, though.  There was no way she was one of _those_ Starks. 

A quick stop off at her parents’ house, and they would be all set.  Her father had called that morning and asked them to stop by.

“Dad was a bit vague earlier on”, said Sansa. 

“We were talking about how the garden needs sorted out last Sunday”, shrugged Jon as they waited in traffic.  “Perhaps he has something for us.  Ned said he’d come over with his mower when the weather gets a little better so we can get the grass cut.  I also want to see about maybe planting flowers.  Nothing too fancy.”

“I like that”, Sansa smiled.  The garden could be so pretty in the summer.  She imagined sitting outside with the baby, reading or something.  And then Jon could come home and join them in a barbeque.  It would all be so lovely. 

“We’d have to have roses”, Sansa added as the car began to move again.  “Marge would never forgive me if we didn’t have roses.”

The Tyrells had always grown roses – her brother Garlan regularly entered his in horticultural festivals throughout the Reach – and had owned Highgarden Florists, named for their home town.  Although Marge had stayed out of the flower business, as she called it, she used roses as a motif on many of her designs. 

“My mother always loved blue ones”, said Jon softly.  Sansa silently reached across and gently rubbed Jon’s arm.  He rarely, if ever, spoke of his mother. 

“We’ll have lots of them, then”, Sansa told him.  They spoke very little for the remainder of the ride to her parents’ house. 

**********

After Jon had pulled into the driveway and they got out of the car, he turned to Sansa.  “I need to make a quick phone call.  Head on in, and I’ll be just a minute.”

Sansa noted he had parked next to Robb’s car.  Her father and brother often went for a round of golf on a Saturday if the weather was good enough.

Sansa smiled at him, and wandered up to the front door.  She wondered if he was planning some sort of surprise dinner after their trip to the museum, and was booking a table.  Sansa had dressed in the hope that they might stop somewhere nice, choosing to wear a new black maternity dress she’d picked up on her last shopping trip. 

“We’re here!” Sansa called when she walked in the door.  Her parents seldom locked it when they knew there would be family visiting.  She was struck instantly by the silence.  Even when her parents were here alone, as they were when Bran and Rickon were away during term-time, it was never this quiet.  There was always the hum of the radio, or the coffee machine, or the TV.  Or her mum on the phone. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Her father came through from the kitchen, dressed in his golf clothes.  He gave her a quick hug.  “How are you?”

“Good.  Good”, Sansa smiled.  “Jon’s just making a phone call.  You wanted to see us?”

“I did?  I did”, her father corrected.  “Yes, I did.  Go through into the family room.  I just need to get something.”

“Okay.”  Sansa opened the door to the family room and was assaulted by a massive barrage of shouts and general noise.

“SURPRISE!!”  Sansa jumped as Arya – her eyes had soon found her sister – brought out the party poppers.  She stumbled shakily in the direction of her mother, awestruck.  Surprises were not good for a woman in her condition!

Her mother hugged her.  “Surprise, sweetheart.”

“Yes”, Sansa murmured.  When her mother let her go, she looked around her and took in the room.  Arya was here, as was Jeyne, Marge and her cousin Megga, Gilly, Brienne and Edda, and a few others.  She was stunned.  All of a sudden, Jon’s nervousness made a lot more sense – he had clearly been _in_ on this.

“Jon?” she said quietly, not thinking she’d be heard over the din.  Sansa looked around, but couldn’t find him. 

“He’s going golfing with Robb and Ned.  They arranged it a couple of days ago”, Jeyne told her.  She winced slightly.  “You aren’t _too_ mad at us, are you?”

“Of course she isn’t”, Margaery put in confidently.  “Who doesn’t love surprises, or presents – or lemon cake?”

“Lemon cake?”  Marge and Jeyne both laughed, and Sansa felt a little foolish.  But only for a moment.

“From your favourite bakery, no less”, Arya told her. 

“Here, come and sit down.”  Sansa felt her mother’s comforting hand around her, and allowed herself to be guided into a chair.  It was all a little overwhelming.  She’d known something was going on, but had never imagined this. 

For the first time, Sansa took in the decorations.  There were banners and a mixture of pink and blue balloons, and flowers everywhere.  Her eyes also took in the table filled to bursting with food, and the one opposite it filled to bursting with presents. 

Sansa felt her cheeks begin to moisten.  She was truly, truly touched.  If only Jon were here to share all of it with her.

********** 

Sansa nibbled daintily on a lemon cake as Jeyne collected in all the slips of paper she’d handed out.  Marge and Arya had, apparently, decided they should play games, but her mother had vetoed the bulk of them as too risqué and sought advice from one of the neighbours.  And so, after Baby Bingo, they were playing Baby Bucket List. 

The idea, as her mother had explained, was for each of them to think of something lovely Sansa could do with the baby during his or her first year.  Sansa thought it very sweet, though privately she wished she’d at least been given the option of Marge and Arya’s games.  She was sure they’d probably spent a lot of time on it.  And both of them _were_ incredibly busy people.

“Okay, let’s get started”, said Jeyne.  She placed the bucket, decorated in baby-themed gift wrap, on the chair next to Sansa.  “Sansa, if you read out what the paper says and after we’ll all try to guess who wrote it.”

Sansa dipped her hand in and pulled out a piece of paper.  “Take the baby to see the ocean and smell sea air.”

She knew instantly who had written that, both by her friend’s writing and the nature of the idea.  Brienne had been born and grown up on an island and loved the ocean. 

“Was that you, Arya?” her mother asked.  “Is that an invite to White Harbour?”

“Nope!” Arya shook her head.  “Not me.  Though you and the little nugget – and Jon – are all welcome to come visit us whenever you want.  Just as long as you don’t expect me to change any diapers.  I’ll be the cool aunt.”

Jeyne laughed at that.  “I don’t think you’d ever be the _uncool_ aunt.  Anyone else have an idea who wrote that idea?”

“Brienne”, said Edda.  Sansa had been pleased to see she’d come.  The two of them had gotten along swimmingly during Edda’s placement.  “You grew up by the ocean.”

“Guilty as charged”, Brienne smiled. 

“I think it’s a lovely idea”, Sansa told her.

They ran through the next few very quickly, and the ideas ranged from joining a mother and baby yoga class (Gilly, who swore by it as a way to helping restore pelvic muscles) to entering the baby in a pageant (Myranda, whose suggestion Sansa was most definitely _not_ going to act on).  By the end, Sansa noted that only Marge’s still had to be read out.  She reminded everyone else of that, and pulled out her best friend’s slip.

“Take the baby on a trip somewhere warm.  NOT the North.  The Reach is lovely in summer, darling.”

Sansa laughed loudly.  “Even if I hadn’t known this was yours already, I would’ve been able to guess.  I’m not sure how practical this idea would be, but it is a lovely one nonetheless.”

She thought back to the day of her twenty week scan and the trip Jon had suggested they take to the site of the Battle of Oxcross.  Sansa smiled to think of it.  While the game had ostensibly been about suggesting mother and baby bonding activities, Sansa liked to daydream about all three of them taking a trip together.  She liked to daydream about them being a real family.

**********

“Time for presents!” yelled Arya excitedly.  Sansa looked over at the groaning table and though she felt both grateful for the gifts and excited about opening them, a selfish part of her wished that she and Jon could pick out everything for their baby themselves. 

Setting aside her silly feelings, Sansa asked her mother to take a note of who had given what gift.  Growing up, although Robb had been the eldest, it had always been Sansa who had written notes to family and friends who had sent them all gifts at Christmas. 

Arya handed her two gift bags, both of which were bulging – and one of which was clinking.  She frowned at her sister, slightly confused. 

“These are from me and Gendry.  One of them is for your little nugget – stuff I bought at that new store in White Harbour – and the other is for you.  It is filled with things you can’t have now, but will be able to enjoy after the baby is born”, Arya told her. 

Sansa felt touched that her sister had bought something for her as well as the baby.  They might not have been close growing up, but Arya meant the world to her now.  Boy or girl, her child would have a loyal and very cool aunt. 

“Thank you”, she said softly.  She opened up the baby’s gift bag first, pulling out a beautiful cuddly bull – which Arya told her Gendry had picked out – several superhero-themed outfits in sizes ranging from newborn to 12 months, a set of large plastic rings for the baby to chew on when teething, a book of fairy tales for Sansa or Jon to read as bedtime stories, and a t-shirt that said my _mummy+my daddy=the cutest baby ever_.

Sansa was sobbing by the time she got to the third superhero outfit and thanking Arya profusely.  When the massive gift bag was emptied, she pulled her sister into a tight hug and sobbed on her shoulder until Arya forcefully removed her a few minutes later. 

“You’re lucky I brought extra clothes with me”, Arya grumbled.  She rubbed away at her wet shoulder as Sansa brushed off her tears.  Her sister didn’t seem _too_ mad about it, though.  “How in seven hells does Jon manage to live with you, crying like that all the time.  The two of you must spend a fortune on tissues!”

Sansa held back a retort that she and Jon managed _excellently_ , thank you very much.  “We manage.  Jon looks after me well.”

“This is from me and Robb”, said Jeyne, stopping Sansa’s mind slipping away to the man she wished was currently sitting next to her.  Sansa watched as her brother’s girlfriend brought over a beautiful bassinette filled with goodies. 

“Oh, Jeyne!  It’s beautiful!  Thank you so much!”  Sansa hugged her, and then rifled through the contents.  There were practical things like wipes and baby lotion and baby talc, as well as the tiniest pair of sneakers Sansa had ever seen, and an animal-themed music box. 

And Sansa soon discovered those gifts were only the start.  In the space of half an hour, their little nugget became the proud owner of countless cuddly toys, new outfits, toys and more photo albums and photo frames than could fit into the Nursery she and Jon still needed to decorate and choose furniture for.  Sansa particularly loved Brienne’s gifts – a gift card that allowed Sansa and Jon to name a star after their child – and a box with a set of small compartments for them to store keepsakes of their baby’s firsts. 

The gifts ranged from the ostentatious (Marge and her expensive spa treatments designed for expectant mothers) to the eminently practical (Gilly and her copy of _The New Mother_ , breast pump and silver spoon).

**********

It all completely overwhelmed Sansa, and she found herself relieved when Jon turned up with her father and Robb.  The first thing he did was apologize for not telling her. 

“So you should be sorry”, she pouted at him.  “Surprises – even good ones – are not advisable for me and little nugget.  And, well, I was really looking forward to that museum outing.”

Jon gave her a quick hug and kissed the top of her head.  “It’s open on Sundays.  I figured we could go tomorrow, when it opens at eleven, and then we’ll be done before we come here for dinner.”

“Outings to a museum?”  Arya rolled her eyes at that.  “Seriously, I don’t know how you live with her like this.”

“I’ll remind you of that when you and Gendry start having children”, Sansa informed her sister smartly.  Though, in truth, she was pleased that Arya had no idea about the nature of some of her cravings – the ones Jon’s fingers and mouth so expertly dealt with – it would only invite further teasing from her sister. 

Gilly came over to speak to them.  “I better get a move on.  It’s almost dinnertime, and Sam’s had the boys all afternoon.”

“Thank you for coming.”  Sansa hugged her.  She hadn’t really known Gilly before the baby, but the young woman was fast becoming a close friend.  Although Sansa knew Marge would always be her best friend, she was also excited about building close friendships with other mothers. 

And Jon and Sam were so close; it reminded Sansa yet again of how domestic their arrangements were. 

“No problem”, Gilly replied. 

“While you’re here, I wonder if I could hit you up for a teensy, tiny favour?” Jon asked.  Gilly nodded.  “Would you be able to put together a list of things Sansa and I do and don’t need for the baby?  All the ones we’ve looked at are different, and we both trust your judgement.”

“Yes, we do”, Sansa agreed. 

“I’ll put one together for you, though I have to say that looking around at this it’s likely you’ve already got most of it!  I’ll see you soon.”

Sansa watched Jon’s eyes drift over to the large pile of presents they’d been given.  “Wow”, he breathed. 

“Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction.  I cried on Arya’s shoulder.”

Jon laughed.  “I doubt she was too thrilled about that.”

“Not very, but it’s completely her own fault for being so generous.  I think she’s away to change.”  Sansa leaned into Jon’s comforting arm and wished he’d wrap it around her as he did when they were alone together.  As much as she loved having his mouth on her, Sansa loved what came after even more.  When she and Jon would just lie on top of her bed and talk about everything and nothing until sleep overcame her.  

Every night Sansa was tempted to offer to relieve Jon of what she assumed was the painful hardness of his cock.  He never relieved himself in front of her nor asked her to do it for him.  She wanted to, though.  She wanted her mouth on Jon as his had been on her.  She wanted to swallow him whole and caress his balls.  And then she wanted him to fill her up. 

“I hope this was a good surprise.”  Sansa was brought out of her thoughts by Brienne’s words.  She smiled. 

“Yeah, in the end I think it was”, she admitted.  “And that you again for the lovely gifts.  Both of you.  Oh – I don’t think either of you have met Jon?  Jon, this is Brienne and Edda.”

“Of course.”  Ever the gentleman, Jon shook hands with both of them.  “It’s nice to meet both of you.  Sansa only ever has nice things to say about you.”

Slowly but surely the rest of the guests drifted out, Sansa – and Jon – thanking each and every one of them for their gifts.  Marge had been teasing in her tone, telling Jon that she hoped he was _taking care_ of the mother of his child.  Jon had gone a little red at that, but Marge hadn’t said anything further – she’d only grinned and hugged Sansa tightly, making her promise to make another shopping date soon.

**********

“I’m pretty tired”, Sansa confessed with a yawn.  Although she hadn’t done much, it had been emotionally exhausting.  Now she was curled up next to Jon on the sofa, surrounded by their gifts.  She hoped they would all fit into Jon’s car.  It was bigger than hers, but they had received so many presents.

“Yeah, I’m thinking we stop by Peat’s on the way home”, said Jon.  Sansa nodded.  Pizza for dinner sounded good. 

“Now I want some”, whined Jeyne. 

“Why don’t we all get some?” Robb suggested.  He had been going through their gifts and seemed intrigued by some and amused by others.  He lifted one up.  “What is this thing, anyway?  It looks like something Rickon would use in a crazy science experiment to put on YouTube.”

Sansa stifled a giggle and allowed Jeyne to answer the question.  “It’s a breast pump, sweetie.”

At that, Robb placed the gift back where it had been, and coughed.  “So, yeah, I don’t think all of this will fit into your car.  You want to split it between yours and mine, and we can stop off for pizzas for everyone on the way over to yours?  Arya, you want to come with?”

“Add in some beers, and I’m in”, she agreed.   

Sansa smiled.  It promised to be an enjoyable evening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know we spent this chapter in Flufftown! But, next chapter we will most definitely be back in smutsville - I PROMISE! :)
> 
> And thank you for all the lovely support! :)


	20. Twenty - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon's day at work takes an unexpected turn.

The first thing Jon felt when he woke up on Thursday morning was his neck.  It had tensed up through the night, and Jon groaned as he opened his eyes.  As he rubbed it to try and soothe the ache, he realized simultaneously that there was another ache he was experiencing and that he wasn’t exactly in his own bed. 

His mind flashed back to the night before.  He and Sansa had both been exhausted with work (she was in the early days of mid-term exams, which had followed the mid-term break, and he was trying to get everything in order before taking up his new post) and had fallen asleep together on the sofa.  By the time Jon had woken up, Sansa was turning off the TV programme they’d turned on and was suggesting they go upstairs.  Never one to deny Sansa anything, Jon had acquiesced immediately. 

Then, after they’d finished, he’d held Sansa while she talked about how excited she was for her students to do well in their exams.  And how some of the final year students had told her of their plans to take History classes at college.  Jon couldn’t remember going back to his own bed; he’d held Sansa and watched her fall asleep, before almost immediately doing the same thing himself. 

Ignoring his morning wood – he had the shower to take care of that, out of Sansa’s hearing range – Jon looked down at Sansa sleeping, his arm wrapped around her.  He felt her turn slightly.  She tugged on his old _Spiderman_ t-shirt and snuggled into him.  Jon was hit by the feeling that this was how he wanted to wake up every morning for the rest of his life. 

Jon kissed the top of Sansa’s head gently and ran his fingers through her hair, ignoring the aches in his neck and groin.  He inhaled her sweet vanilla scent and sighed happily.  She looked so beautiful, sleeping in his arms. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a ringing noise coming from Sansa’s bedside table.  Her alarm was going off.  Jon watched as she roused herself slowly and looked shyly up at him. 

“Morning”, he murmured, shifting slightly.  He tried, whenever possible, to disguise the fact that he was hard.  Jon figured he was mostly unsuccessful, but he tried anyway. 

“Morning”, Sansa sighed.  She sat up and rubbed her eyes. 

“I fell asleep most likely a few minutes after you did”, Jon chuckled.  “Sorry.  I just woke up.  I should leave you to it.”

She looked at him, her eyes still sleepy, and Jon felt a compulsion to kiss Sansa.  Instead, he cleared his throat. 

“It’s fine.  If anything, we should both leave and head down to breakfast”, she told him.  Jon smiled at her and climbed up from the bed, deciding his shower could wait.  He murmured his intention to go and put a dressing gown on (to try and hide how hard he still was).  “Great.  I’ll go and put some toast on and fill the kettle.  You want anything else to eat?  Cereal?”

_You_. 

“Uhm, no.  I think toast will do it.  I have an eight forty-five meeting with a client, and Alys usually brings coffee and bagels in if we have anything scheduled before nine.”

**********

Jon walked back to his office when the meeting with Mr. Targaryen ended.  He had been spending around half a day each week with his new superior since landing the promotion, and was excited about starting work in his new post full time.  With the need to transfer his cases and clients over to the other associates, Jon still had just over another week in his current role. 

Today they’d been discussing the reporting side of things – something Jon knew he’d need to acclimatise himself to.  Staring at spreadsheets for nigh on two hours had fried his brain and had him wishing he’d put his glasses on that morning instead of his contacts. 

He thought back to that morning and how he’d woken up with Sansa in his arms.  Jon hadn’t had too much time to reflect and process the feelings it had caused.  Sansa had been unable to start her car, so Jon had offered to drop her off at work.  It had been an enjoyable ride, with Sansa singing along to the radio and brightening up his day.

Jon had almost forgotten the early meeting he was dreading with Mrs. Dustin. 

Back at his office, he asked Alys for his messages and went inside to review the Ryswell file.  The Ryswell case was one Alliser Thorne was taking over when Jon took up his new post, and so there was added pressure on him to make sure that everything was up-to-date, signed off and invoiced. 

Burying himself in the mind-numbing minutae of the file, Jon was a little relieved to have Alys interrupt him with a call from Grenn. 

“What’s up?”  Jon asked.  Grenn had started off a colleague, but Jon would now call him a friend. 

“I’m going through my invoicing and I need your signature on a couple of things for the Will I did for you a few weeks ago.”

Jon groaned.  He’d forgotten there was still a little paperwork to do for that.  “I’ll be along in two minutes, and we can get it over and done with.”

He headed along to Grenn’s office, and signed the paperwork.  But, when Grenn asked for his opinion on a couple of clients he was taking over from Jon, it was easy to delay his return to the Ryswell file.  He had more than a week to make it as Thorne-proof as he could. 

**********

In the end, Jon spent a good half-hour with Grenn, going through a few things.  He was walking back to his office when he saw Alys running along the corridor towards him, a look of fear in her eyes.  Jon glanced around and saw the increased hustle and bustle, unusual for Mormont and Associates. 

“Alys?  What’s wrong?” he asked her. 

She handed him his wallet and car keys.  “There was a fire at Wintertown High.  They’ve taken a bunch of people to the hospital.”

Jon’s blood froze and his heart started to crack around the edges. 

_Sansa_. 

“No”, he murmured softly.  No, Sansa would be alright.  She _had_ to be alright.  They were going to have a baby.  “I – I have to find Sansa.  The school or the hospital.  I’ll try and call her phone.  Cancel all my meetings for today and tomorrow.  Reschedule them for next week.”

“Okay.”  Alys nodded.  Jon tried to remember if any of her relatives went to school there, or if she had any friends among the teaching staff.  “Good – good luck, Jon.”

Jon started to run off down the corridor.  “I’ll call you when I know anything.”

He ran down the corridor, down the stairs and towards his car.  His heart was beating a thousand miles an hour as the same two words ran through his mind over and over and over again.

_Not Sansa.  Not Sansa.  Not Sansa.  Not Sansa.  Not Sansa._

He couldn’t lose her.  Not now.  He couldn’t lose either of them, the two people that meant more to him than anyone else in the world.  Reaching his car, he set his phone up to run on hands-free and dialled Sansa’s number.  Jon drove out of the carpark faster than he had in his life.

**********

Jon parked his car as close to the hospital as he could and ran to the ER.  His calls to Sansa’s phone hadn’t elicited a response, and nor had the countless voicemails and text messages he’d left on her phone whenever he’d been stopped by traffic lights. 

She wasn’t even thirty weeks yet.  Jon thought of their little nugget and the heartbeat, thumping as hard as his own was now, that he’d heard at their last scan.  He did what he hadn’t done since childhood and silently prayed to each and every deity going that everything would be alright.  That Sansa and their child would be alright.  Jon knew he couldn’t wrap Sansa up in cotton wool for the duration of her pregnancy, and that she loved teaching, but it would kill him inside if he lost them both. 

Out of breath, Jon reached the ER reception desk and a long line of anxious-looking parents.   He fidgeted as it took what felt like forever for him to reach the front of the queue.  For all Jon knew, Sansa wasn’t even here.  _But she hadn’t answered her phone_.  Unless it was still on silent…..

Jon hoped that was the case. 

He looked the receptionist in the eye and pleaded with her.  “Sansa Stark – she’s a teacher, not a student.  I need to know if she’s here, if she’s alright, and if she is here then I need to see her.” 

Jon found himself babbling, but he didn’t care.  He just wanted to see Sansa, to look at her and know she was safe. 

“Are you a family member?”

“No, not exactly.  But – she’s – Sansa, she’s pregnant and I’m the father of her child.”

The receptionist looked at him with something akin to pity.  “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t disclose confidential medical information to anyone who isn’t a close family member.”

Jon kicked himself in the shin.  He choked back the emotion threatening to reach up his throat.  “Please – I have to know if Sansa is alright.  I may not be family, but I’m the father of her unborn child.  If there’s anything wrong with the baby, I – “

Then Jon thought back to the baby shower, and Margaery’s cousin. 

“Nurse Tyrell!” he shouted, remembering she worked as an ER nurse.  Sansa had said after Marge and her cousin had left the shower that she hoped the young woman would be on duty the day she went into labour.  “You have a – Nurse Tyrell, she knows me.  Please?!”

The receptionist nodded, and called out over the tannoy for Nurse Tyrell to come to reception.  Luckily Jon had only bitten two of his nails down as far as they would go when Megga turned up. 

“I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at Sansa’s baby shower.  You’re Margaery’s cousin and if you don’t – “

“I remember you”, said Megga.  “It’s alright, Myrtle.  You can let him in.  I’ll show him down the hall.”

As the security door next to the reception desk opened, Jon found himself torn between relief that he was being allowed to see Sansa and terror at the condition she might be in.  He thought back to his mother’s days as a nurse and the burns victims she’d sometimes treated.  Jon didn’t know how bad the fire had been, but the ER was full of people.

Jon thanked Megga profusely as soon as they were face to face.  “Sansa – please, I have to see her.  Is she alright?  And the baby?  Is the baby alright?  I know she isn’t at thirty weeks yet and the books Sam gave me said that the baby’s lungs – “

“Jon!”  He snapped out of it as Megga said his name.  “I’m going to need you to calm down a little.  Stress isn’t good for Sansa or the baby, and that’s the first thing she’ll feel when she sees you like this.”

“Okay.”  He ran his fingers through his hair, and Megga opened the door to a side room as Jon tried to force himself to appear calm. 

“I’ll leave you to it”, she told him. 

Jon looked inside the room and saw Sansa sitting on the edge of a bed.  She was talking to Catelyn, who sat in a chair, but held his gaze when she realized who had entered the room.  Jon was frozen in place for a moment, just staring at Sansa, and taking in the fact that after all he had feared…….Sansa was _alright_.

He rushed forward and pulled her into his arms, inhaling her vanilla scent as he had done that morning.  Had it been mere hours ago?  To Jon it seemed like an eternity with all the turmoil he’d been through inside after hearing news of the fire from Alys. 

“Jon?”  Sansa murmured softly.  He pulled away slightly, and took her hands in his. 

“You’re alright.  I thought – I heard what had happened, and I thought I’d lost you.  That I’d lost both of you”, he said quietly. 

Sansa snorted.  “The fire was in the cafeteria.  It wasn’t even in my building, Jon.  But they evacuated the entire school, and Brienne sent me down here with the first batch of students suffering from smoke inhalation.  I _did_ remind her that I’m both certified in First Aid _and_ a Fire Warden, but she insisted.”

“I’m liking her more and more.”  Jon chuckled as he felt a huge weight lift off his chest.  Sansa was alright.  She would be coming home with him tonight.

“And then, as soon as I got here, Megga all but man-handled me into this room and told me to stay put.  _You’re Marge’s best friend and Marge is family_.”

“I’d forgotten she worked here at first.  The receptionist wouldn’t let me in because I wasn’t a family member, so I asked if Megga was on shift and she got me past the desk.”

Sansa gestured to her mother, who Jon had almost forgotten was there.  “Mum’s my emergency contact.  The school automatically sent a text alert out to everyone’s.  Is that how you – “

“I was heading back to my office, and Alys came running along the corridor.”  Jon would never forget the look on her face.  It had made him cold with fear.  “I just – I had to – I couldn’t not come find you.  I tried phoning from the car, but I couldn’t get through.”

“My phone is still on silent”, Sansa admitted.  “Actually, I was just about to check it when you appeared.”

“I’m going to go get you some water, sweetheart”, smiled Catelyn.  Jon looked down and realized he was still holding Sansa’s hands in his, rubbing gentle circles on her palms.  When the door clicked closed, Jon took Sansa in his arms again. 

“I never want to go through that again”, he breathed.  Jon kissed her temple lightly and heard Sansa sigh into his embrace. 

“I’m fine”, she assured him.  “We both are.”

“I thought I’d lost you”, said Jon, repeating his words from earlier.  “And Sansa, I – I don’t ever want to.”

Sansa took pity on him and gave a quick squeeze, repeating her assertion that nothing had happened to her – well, aside from being ordered around by her well-meaning friends. 

Jon swallowed his nerves.  He never wanted to go through even thinking he might lose Sansa again.  She and their little nugget were Jon’s world.  He took a step back and let his hands drop slightly, cradling Sansa’s face. 

“I love you, Sansa.  You and our little nugget, you’re everything to me.  And these last few weeks….Sansa I want what we have to be real.  I want you.  I love you.  What’s that really corny saying from those romantic movies you pick out when we watch TV?  _You’re the one_.”

He gently swiped his fingers across Sansa’s cheeks and brushed away the tears falling down them.  Had he just messed everything up?  Jon’s uncertainty must have shown on his face, because Sansa smiled up at him and shook her head almost imperceptibly. 

“They’re happy tears, I promise.”

Jon let out a huge sigh of relief, before bending his head down and kissing Sansa the way he’d wanted to kiss her at New Year’s.  He ran his tongue along her lips, tasting the lemon cake she’d taken to work to have with her lunch, before deepening the kiss and allowing their tongues to dance. 

It was everything he’d wanted from their last kiss and been afraid to ask for, and Jon found himself filled with more emotion than he could ever imagine. 

And it felt so, so _right_. 

“I love you too, Jon Snow”, Sansa told him when their lips had parted.  “You know, just in case there was any kind of doubt about that.  I just – I didn’t want to make things awkward.  I should’ve told you that I wanted your mouth on me, instead of leaving you thinking it was simply one of Marge’s mad-cap suggestions.”

Jon chuckled.  “Yeah, well, maybe I should’ve told _you_ that I’m more than willing to expand on that particular line of activities.  And I didn’t want to make things awkward either.  I thought it might end up that way if I told you how much I love our life together.  I want to be your emergency contact and wake up next to you every morning.  I want to – I want us to be _us_.”

“I do too.”  Sansa bit her lip, a shy look on her face. 

Jon thought back to that morning and Sansa waking up in his arms.  He wanted that forever.

********** 

When Megga eventually returned with Dr. Mullendore, who signed off Sansa as not in need of any hospital care, they were free to leave.  Sansa, however, insisted on checking in with Brienne on their way out.  Jon saw her gaze drop to Sansa’s hand, which he held tightly in his. 

“Make sure you get lots of rest.  I know you didn’t come into contact with the fire, but you’ve had a bit of a shock nonetheless.  Also, I’ve spoken with Principal Seaworth, and he says that the school will remain closed tomorrow and possibly into next week.  So much for the midterm exams”, she finished with a sigh.  Jon squeezed Sansa’s hand. 

“See, a day of rest tomorrow.”  Sansa looked ready to protest, until Jon told her that he’d be taking a personal day and would make sure she got as much rest as she needed.  Jon fully intended to spend the day in bed with Sansa, making up for lost time. 

“I’ll call you over the weekend to let you know what’s happening”, Brienne promised.  She pulled Sansa into a farewell hug.  “Now that I think of it, your car is at the school, isn’t it?  I’m not sure if – “

“My car wouldn’t start this morning.  Jon dropped me off”, interrupted Sansa.  “Thank you, Brienne.  For everything.”

Sansa glanced at Catelyn.  “Thanks for coming down here, mum.  Even if it was a waste of your time.”

Catelyn smiled at Sansa and assured her daughter that she would never, ever be a waste of her time.  From the look she gave them, Jon wondered if Catelyn had an inkling of what had happened in that examination room when she’d gone to get Sansa a drink of water.  When Catelyn had left, Jon had been standing before Sansa, holding both her hands in his; when she had returned, Jon had been sitting next to Sansa on the bed, with his arm around her – though with just one of her hands in his.

“Come on”, smiled Jon softly.  “Let’s go home.”

“Yes”, Sansa smiled back at him.  “ _Home_.”

**********

When Jon walked in through their front door with his arm around Sansa, he was well aware that he did so with a goofy, shit-eating grin plastered across his face.  And he could not have cared less.  He was Sansa’s now, and she was his. 

Before they could do what Jon knew they both wanted to do, there was a small practicality he had to deal with.  While Sansa made herself comfortable on the sofa, Jon placed a call through to his office.

“Hey, Alys.”

“Jon – is everything – did you manage to find Sansa?”  Jon could hear the nervous tension in her voice. 

“Yeah.  Yeah, I did”, he replied softly.  “She’s fine.  The fire wasn’t in her building, but I’m still a little worried about her.  She’s going to need some rest tomorrow.”

“You’ll be working from home?” Alys asked.

“I will be, yeah.”  Jon figured he could get some paperwork done while Sansa napped.  Well, a little, anyway.  “Did you manage – “

“All your appointments for tomorrow have been rescheduled for early next week and I gave Alysanne a heads up that you might work from home tomorrow.”

Jon chuckled.  “Alys, you’re a gem.  Thank you so much.”

“See you Monday.”

“You too.  Have a good weekend.”

That dealt with, Jon went through to the living area and sat down next to Sansa, drawing her into his lap.  She giggled slightly as Jon started on nibbling his way down her neck.  He was going to spend the rest of the day worshipping and devouring Sansa.  And then he would spend tomorrow doing the same.  Eventually, he hoped she would agree to let him do that forever. 

Sansa’s giggles turned to moans as Jon unbuttoned the shirt-dress she wore and moved his mouth to the valley between her breasts.  It hadn’t escaped Jon’s notice that they’d grown bigger recently.  He wanted to spend an eternity mapping them out with his tongue, learning the changes as he did with the rest of Sansa’s body. 

“ _Oh, gods, Jon.  Gods, but that feels good……_ ”

She grabbed his hands and shifted them from her waist to her breasts.  He cupped them gently and heard Sansa whine at his touch.  The guttural “ _fuuuuccckkk_ ” he received in response travelled directly to his cock and Jon bucked involuntarily in her direction.  He wanted to be inside Sansa _now_.  But he also wanted this to take as long as he could make it last.

Sansa moved closer to him, and bit his earlobe.  Jon groaned at the sensation.  “I think we should take this upstairs”, she whispered.  Jon pulled himself away from Sansa long enough to give her a quick nod. 

He gently moved Sansa off his lap, whining first at the friction as she moved over his rapidly hardening cock and then at the loss of contact.  Jon looked in Sansa’s eyes and saw the same blown pupils and raw want he figured were most definitely reflected in his own.  He brought his mouth down to meet hers and gave a gentle pull on her lips, tasting that damn lemon cake again. 

“Come on”, he told her softly.  Jon took Sansa’s hand and led her up the stairs to her bedroom, as she had done with him so many times over the last few weeks.  This time, it would be different.  This time, there would be no holding himself back.  This time, oh, gods, but _this time_ he could make love to her truly. 

This time it would be about _both of them_. 

But, Jon had never considered himself to be a selfish lover.  And so, when they reached Sansa’s bed, Jon was determined to bring her off as he had done over the last few weeks.  He wanted to show Sansa that it hadn’t just been about him following Margaery’s prescription.  It had been about him _wanting_ to worship and devour her. 

He sat Sansa down on the bed and then knelt down on the plush carpet.  Jon grinned at her and removed her tights and panties as he had done so, so many times before.  This time, however, Jon unbuttoned the rest of her shirt-dress and threw that over to the other side of the room as well.  He went to unhook her bra, but Sansa beat him to it. 

Jon leaned back on his heels, allowing himself to greedily drink in the sight of Sansa in her nude glory.  She was stunningly beautiful, she was ethereal, and she was round with his child.  Jon almost blew his load just looking at her. 

“You’re beautiful”, he told her softly.  He leaned up and tenderly tucked a few stray wisps of hair behind her ear.  “So, so beautiful.”

Sansa smiled back at him shyly, but there was no shyness in Jon as he began to kiss his way up her legs.  He ran his hands up and down her calves when he reached her thighs, sucking away at them with his tongue as he sought to mark Sansa with his mouth.  Jon had to force himself to calm down as he listened to the moans that elicited and the tugs he felt on his curls. 

“ _Don’t….need…..to_ ”, Sansa panted when Jon reached her slit.  “ _’M already so, so wet for you_.”

She gave a loud gasp of pleasure when Jon chuckled into her lower lips at that.  He slid his tongue inside her and began to lap at her juices. 

“I want to”, he told her gruffly as his beard began to glisten with Sansa’s wetness. 

His mouth found her clit and Sansa whimpered.  “ _I want you.  All of you_.” 

His tongue circled her clit and Jon wrote his name. “ _I love doing this.  I love your scent_.”

Jon swirled his tongue around her clit again.  “ _I love the way you taste.  I love you.  I love the sounds you make when I do this to you_.”

Sansa screamed out in pleasure and Jon lapped up her juices like a thirsty dog on a hot summer’s day.  He clutched tightly onto her ass and promised himself that it would see his tongue’s attention today and tomorrow, and then again and again and again. 

“ _Jon!_ ”  Sansa all but screamed his name and he pressed gentle kisses up her belly and in the direction of her breasts as she rode out her high. 

As she was coming down from it, his mouth reached her breasts.  Touching them while they were on the sofa had allowed Jon to feel the difference in them.  His mind was sadly still a little hazy when Jon tried to think back to that night they spent together all those months ago.  A night that had changed their worlds in so, so many ways. 

Jon swirled his tongue around Sansa’s right nipple and played with the left in his thumb and forefinger.  From the noises Sansa made, he could tell instantly they were so much more sensitive than they had been before. 

“ _Nurgh!  Oh, Jon!  Right there!  Just – hells, but you are so good at this!_ ”

He pulled back slightly and blew air over the nipple.  Jon went to dive in and lavish the same attention on the other, when Sansa pulled his mouth up to hers and covered it.  She sucked on his tongue as if it was her oxygen source and ran her fingers through his hair. 

“My turn now”, she panted, standing up.  Jon whined as he found himself facing the top of her thighs.  He looked up after a moment or two and took Sansa’s hand, standing himself.  Sansa chuckled.  “Gods, but you do have _one_ failing, Jon Snow.  You are wearing far, far, far too many clothes for my liking.”

Jon could hardly dispute her assessment of the situation.  He threw off his tie, shirt and jacket, all of which joined Sansa’s pile of discarded clothes on the floor.  Try as he might, Jon couldn’t prevent the hiss that escaped his mouth as the remainder of his clothes were removed.  He was painfully hard and – though he was loathe to admit it – knew he had to be inside Sansa soon, or he wouldn’t be finishing inside her. 

And, at this moment, Jon wanted that more than anything. 

He licked from Sansa’s cunt to her sternum, through the valley of her breasts, and then sat down on the bed.  “I want you to ride me.”

Jon didn’t add that the books Sam had loaned him had advised it might be easier for the pregnant woman in this position.  He didn’t want her to think that was a factor.  In truth, Jon had never been opposed to having a woman on top. 

Although he tried and failed to remember if they’d done it this way before, Jon wanted to see her breasts bounce as she rode him like a cowgirl.  He wanted to see her roll her head back in abandon as she reached her climax.  And he wanted to be the person tethering her to earth. 

His memory might play tricks on him, but it was as if Jon’s fantasies of late had come to life when Sansa’s hips bucked as his cock filled her up.  Jon held onto her hands with his as they moved in unison.  With each rotation, Jon could feel himself move further and further inside Sansa. 

“ _Harder, harder, harder_ ”, Sansa chanted as her head moved further and further back. 

“ _Yes_ ”, Jon murmured.  His moans grew louder and louder as he became more conscious that his willpower was waning by the second.  Although his mind wanted to keep going, his body told him that he was almost there.  Jon removed one of his hands from Sansa’s grasp and placed it between them, finding her clit. 

“ _What the fuck are you trying to do to me?!_ ” Sansa panted when he started to rub it, slowly at first and then more frantically.

“I want you to come harder than you ever have before!” Jon shouted in between the deep breaths he found himself having to take. 

In the end, Sansa crested her wave a moment or so before Jon did.  And while he had intended her to come harder than she ever had before, Jon thought he might at least have come close to doing the same.  He was dripping with sweat and want and relief. 

Jon reached up and pulled Sansa’s mouth down to reach his in a kiss.  It was soppy, messy and very, very wet.  But, it was Sansa and it was him.  And Jon knew that from now on, even their worst kisses together would be better than it could ever be with anyone else. 

He cradled her face in his hands, and then kissed Sansa’s temple gently. 

“I love you”, he told her simply. 

And Jon knew he would never, ever feel the same way about anyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY! :)


	21. Twenty-one - Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Jon revel in the discovery their feelings are mutual.

Sansa was pleased to find that she was first to wake on Friday morning.  She gazed at Jon’s sleeping form and bit down on her lip as she thought back to the day before.  It had only been a little over twenty four hours since she’d woken up to find herself in Jon’s arms.  He’d looked so adorable, his hair tousled from sleep as it was now, and Sansa had needed to work hard to stop herself from kissing him. 

This morning, Sansa knew she wouldn’t have to put that hard work in. 

A little over twenty four hours and two sets of three little words later, Sansa was happier than she had ever been in her life.  _I love you_ and _you’re the one_ ……those words entirely summed up how Sansa felt about Jon himself. 

Jon snorted and turned in his sleep, moving in closer to her.  Sansa’s heart was fit to burst.  She snuggled into Jon’s embrace, humming the tune to Marillion’s last song.  As far as she was concerned, this happy little bubble she and Jon created the night before could last forever. 

Sansa bit her lip as she felt Jon’s cock press into her.  Ever since they’d started to expand their physical relationship that day she’d blurted out Marge’s suggestion, Sansa hadn’t failed to notice how Jon’s body reacted.  More than once – well, most days, if she was honest – Sansa had wanted to offer to relieve him.  It was even more obvious this morning given he wasn’t wearing anything.

A wicked thought crossing her mind, Sansa softly removed herself from Jon’s embrace and threw off the duvet cover.  She straddled Jon’s lower legs as quietly and gently as she could, and bent down to blow cool, soft air over his half-hard cock. 

She’d never really been overly interested in doing this with Joff or Harry – though both men had insisted upon it – but with Jon, Sansa wanted nothing more than to take him in her mouth and bring him undone as he had to her so, so, _so_ many times. 

Sansa started off slowly.  After a few blows of cool air on the tip, she tickled it gently with her tongue.  Jon twitched slightly but didn’t wake.  Sansa smiled, and took his length in her mouth. 

She set to work, licking and sucking and kissing his length every which way she wanted.  And she began to understand how he got hard when he had his tongue on her clit, because Sansa could feel herself starting to get wet at the sensation of her tongue on Jon. 

Maybe it was the poor reviews she’d received from Joff and Harry, but Sansa almost began to feel a sense of pride rise within her as she felt Jon grow harder and harder in her mouth.  She intensified her ministrations and cupped Jon’s balls.  It was then she found out for sure he was awake as an almighty groan rumbled through the room. 

“ _Fucking hell, sweetheart!_ ” Jon almost growled at her.  Sansa glanced up at his face and saw how black his eyes had turned.  Jon was clutching onto the sheets for dear life and it only made Sansa hornier.  “ _Are you trying to knock me unconscious?!_ ”

Sansa hummed against his cock and caressed his balls further.  Jon screamed and growled and moaned in turn as she brought more and more of him into her mouth.  They were most _definitely_ doing this again! 

“ _Sansa_ – “ Jon panted.  “ _Sansa, I’m going to_ – “

Determined she was going all the way with this, Sansa took Jon at his word and swirled her tongue around his cock, licking his length up and down and up and down, before taking it whole into his mouth.  And then she felt him spasm as his juices filled her mouth. 

“ _Holy fuck_!” Jon muttered, his head thrown backwards.  Sansa took that as a good sign.  She swallowed his juices and moved up the bed to face Jon. 

“Mmmmm.  Salty”, she grinned at him.  “Good morning.”

“Oh, it’s looking to be a very good morning”, said Jon.  “That was the most amazing wake-up call I’ve ever had.”

He cupped her face and kissed her.  It was slow and soft at first, but Sansa soon found her mouth invaded in the most pleasurable sort of incursion.  Sansa leaned into Jon and allowed herself to melt into his arms again. 

“So, what do you want to do today?  I seem to remember being told I needed to rest”, sighed Sansa softly.  She had little intention of doing that and she suspected Jon felt the same way. 

Jon tapped her gently on the nose.  “Yes.  Lots of rest.  _Bed_ rest.  If I have my way, you’ll be spending most of the day in this bed.”

“And, of course, you’ll need to join me.  To make sure I get as much rest as I should be.”  Jon grinned.  Sansa loved how it opened up his face and reached all the way to his eyes.  Jon could be broody at times, but when he smiled like this she knew it showed how truly happy he was. 

“You’re catching on.  I love you.  Now that I’ve got myself sorted out and manned up, I’m not going to stop saying that to you.”  Jon pressed a soft kiss to Sansa’s temple and pulled her in closer.  Never, in all of her life, could she remember feeling so happy and so loved. 

**********

Sansa lay languidly across Jon’s torso, his fingers caressing her hair, when her phone began to ring.  It was the middle of the afternoon and they’d just gone yet another round.  Aside from Jon treating her to breakfast in bed and bringing up odds and ends he’d gathered from the fridge for lunch, they’d spent the entire day like this – periods of regaining their strength and stamina in between the rounds of sex they had mutually deemed necessary to make up for lost time. 

It was Arya’s name that lit up Sansa’s screen, and she found herself frowning.  Why was her sister calling in the middle of the day?  Shouldn’t she be at work?  Sansa showed Jon her phone before answering the call.  “Hello?”

“Sansy pansy!  You still at home?” Arya asked.  After Jon’s worries, Sansa had texted her family and friends during the ride home to let them know she was safe and well. 

“Yeah.”  Sansa yawned.  She may not have made it further than the bathroom, but she and Jon had spent the day engaged in numerous _very_ physical workouts. 

“Good.  Gendry and I are on our way over now.  We’re just leaving Gage’s.”  Sansa sat up.  Arya and Gendry were in Wintertown?  Then Sansa remembered her sister discussing her next trip home when they’d spoken after her baby shower. 

“But I thought your friend Anguy’s birthday was next weekend?”

“Nope!  We’re off out tonight, and mum mentioned you were having car problems, so I wanted Gendry to fix it today.  He’ll be hungover tomorrow.”  Sansa could hear Gendry protesting that fact in the background – and reminding Arya that she was usually the one trying to drink everyone else under the table.

“How long will you be?” Sansa squeaked out.  She glanced over at Jon, eyes wide open.  She’d hoped they would have a couple of days together before her family lovingly interfered in their relationship.  As much as Sansa hated keeping secrets from them, she wanted Jon all to herself for a bit. 

“About a half hour?  We’ve literally just left.”

Sansa coughed.  Half an hour.  They could work with that.  “Good.  Okay.  Alright.  See you – see you then?”

“Not if we see you first.  Ciao.”

Sansa gulped.  “We have half an hour.  I wanted you to myself today!”

“Me too”, Jon agreed.  He took her hand in his.  “Don’t worry.  Arya will be fine with us.”

Sansa bit her lip.  “I was – do you mind if we don’t say anything?  Not because I don’t want anyone to know.  Just…..not yet?  I want us to have some time to ourselves before my family make our relationship about more than the two of us.”

Jon smiled gently and brought his lips to hers.  He kissed her softly.  “Sunday?”

“Sunday”, Sansa agreed with a nod.  Though, she had to admit to herself that her mother may have clocked the way she and Jon looked at one another at the hospital.  It _would_ explain why she hadn’t contacted Sansa to check up on her. 

“We should make the most of this half hour”, said Jon.  Sansa laughed.  How she wished that was possible.  She was more than ready for another round with Jon.  It had been a great day.  After she’d woken him up, Jon had returned the favour.  Then it had been hard and fast and Sansa had seen stars.  But, she’d also loved the time he spent kissing what felt like every inch of her body.

The reality was, however, that there was a more pressing concern.  “Jon, we positively _reek_ of sex.”  Sansa sighed. 

He got a wicked grin on his face.  “Well, then.  Best introduce me to the en-suite shower, then.”

**********

Sansa moaned as Jon ran his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp.  She could smell the tropical scent of her shampoo.  She wasn’t entirely sure a shared shower was the best way to keep Arya in the dark about her burgeoning relationship.  But, with Jon’s cock pressing into her arse, Sansa found she didn’t care much at this point in time. 

“ _Gods, that’s good_ ”, she whined.  Sansa moved back and heard Jon groan at the friction it caused. 

“ _You’ll be the death of me_ ”, he growled in her ear.  Sansa was finding she was even more turned on by this horny version of Jon than she’d ever thought she could be.  “ _But, then, death by Sansa would be a good way to go.  You riding me and making me come harder than anyone else in the history of the world_.”

Jon moved his hands down to Sansa’s waist, and then raised them to cup her breasts.  He didn’t squeeze them, or smush them together, but caressed them carefully and gently and left Sansa in a puddle of goo.  She arched her back further and further into Jon, until she could feel him hit the wall of the shower.  Jon sucked at her shoulder, moaning.

Never in her life had Sansa thought shower sex could be this hot.  But perhaps it was Jon who made everything so hot and exciting.  Maybe it wasn’t _what_ you did, but the person you did it with.

“ _Fuck me_ ”, she murmured, pressing her hands over Jon’s.  “ _Fuck me, now_.”

Sansa screamed when Jon entered her.  The water from the shower cascading down her body only made it hotter for Sansa.  She wondered what it would feel like to do this with Jon underneath a waterfall. 

As Jon moved one of his hands down and began rubbing her clit, Sansa decided sex with Jon anywhere would be amazing.

**********

Sansa just made it downstairs in time to open the door to Arya and Gendry.  Her hair was still damp, and she wore no make-up, but she still felt like a million gold dragons.  When they’d heard Arya and Gendry knock the door, Jon had kissed her softly and sent her downstairs.   

“Afternoon”, she greeted them with a hug. 

“Hey.”  Sansa turned round to see Jon come downstairs after her.  He wore an old pair of torn skinny jeans and a Batman t-shirt that had seen better days, but Sansa thought he looked nothing short of edible.  It had taken a lot of restraint (helped along by the knowledge that Arya and Gendry were arriving) to prevent her from pushing him backwards onto her bed. 

“You’re not at work?” Gendry asked Jon as they shook hands. 

Jon coughed.  “Uh, no.  Working from home today.  Well, doing paperwork.  I got up early and got stuck in.  I’d just finished when Sansa said you were on the way over.  Thought I better have a shower and make myself presentable.”

Sansa didn’t mention the way the tips of Jon’s ears went a little pink.  Instead, she ushered Arya and Gendry through to the kitchen and put the kettle on.  While Jon set out tea and coffee for the four of them, Gendry quizzed Sansa on her car. 

“Might just need a jump start”, he shrugged.  “I’ll take a look at it for you.  If you need a new part then I can either come back next weekend – depending on how you feel about being without wheels for a week – or refer you to a decent garage up here.”

“Thank you”, said Sansa gratefully.  She trusted Gendry, and had even taken him and Arya with her when she’d bought the car on her return to Wintertown.  “So, where are you off to tonight, then?”

“High Heart”, replied Arya.  Sansa smiled.  The dive bar was far more Arya’s scene than her own.  “Anguy’s mate Beric owns it now, so it should be a good night.  It’ll be a cheap one, in any case.  And good thing – we’ve booked a holiday to Braavos in the summer.  The Intercontinental Fencing Championships are on while we’re there, and we’ve managed to get tickets for the last two days of competition.”

“Sounds good”, said Jon.  He laid tea in front of Arya and Gendry, before gently pressing a cup of decaf coffee into Sansa’s hands.  She felt it to the tips of her fingers when Jon’s brushed her own and glanced up at him with a smile.  Sansa caught the dopey look on Jon’s face and suspected it was reflected in her own. 

Sansa forced herself to turn to Arya and Gendry and cleared her throat.  “So, any other plans for this weekend?  Are you up until Sunday or Monday?”

“Monday”, replied Arya.  “You have any idea how long you’re off yet?”

Sansa shrugged.  She hadn’t heard anything from Brienne yet.  “Not sure.  I wouldn’t think too long.  From what I understand, only one section of the main building was affected.  Mine wasn’t touched.  But Principal Seaworth will only re-open the school when he feels it’s safe for the students to come back.”

Sansa felt Jon sit down next to her and hook his ankle around hers.  Sansa felt a stupid smile grow across her face and struggled to concentrate on what Gendry was saying about his expanding business and the new employee he’d been able to take on. 

**********

“Good as new”, Gendry beamed a little while later as he turned over the engine in Sansa’s car.  It seemed to be running smoothly and Sansa made a mental note to arrange a trip to White Harbour late in the summer, for the annual service.  Gendry’s business seemed to be booming and she couldn’t count on him being able to come up for the weekend.  Perhaps she, Jon and their little nugget could take a short trip. 

Sansa hugged herself at the thought of that.  Dreams of taking a family trip with Jon and their little nugget felt more and more like a genuine possibility – a reality very much within her grasp. 

“Well, you look like you’re enjoying your day off”, Arya told her with a smirk.  Sansa wondered what her sister was getting at.  “Mum said you’d spend the day _resting_.”

Arya said it like it was a swear word, but Sansa knew her sister meant well. 

“I was lying in bed, resting, when you called”, said Sansa, figuring it was _mostly_ a truthful statement.  “I just jumped in the shower when you phoned.”

“Yeah, I noticed you and Jon had a very fresh look around you when we arrived.”

“The advantage of having an en-suite”, replied Sansa without a beat.  “You don’t need to queue for a shower!”

“Of course.”  Sansa wasn’t entirely sure her sister was fooled, but they would know the truth on Sunday in any case.  And, in the event Arya _had_ rumbled them, Sansa took her filtered response as a sign that Arya didn’t have any objections to this development. 

Sansa felt a twinge and grabbed her sister’s hand, before pressing it gently on her belly.  This was the first time she’d done this with anyone other than Jon.  “Here.”

“What the – “  Arya seemed alarmed at first, but quickly recognized what was happening.  “Is that……fuck, Sansa is that your little nugget?!”

“Yeah, it is.”  Sansa beamed at her sister.  She was loving how her pregnancy had so far served to, in some ways, bring her and her very non-maternal younger sister closer together. 

“This is amazing!  Gendry!”  Arya shouted.  “Come over and see this!  I can feel Sansa’s little nugget moving!”

Sansa laughed and caught Jon’s eye.  She saw nothing but love there, and it made everything so much more magical. 

When Arya and Gendry drove off ten minutes later, Sansa pushed Jon up against their closed front door and kissed him.  “Don’t get me wrong, I love my sister, but I am so, so excited we have our home to ourselves again.”

Jon hooked his leg around Sansa’s and pressed his forehead to hers.  “Yeah, me too.”

**********

After switching off the engine, Jon turned to Sansa.  “Is it weird that there’s a part of me finding _this_ scarier than telling them about the baby?”

They were sat in the driveway, parked next to Robb’s car, having arrived for their weekly Stark Sunday Dinner – the occasion they’d agreed upon for announcing to her family that they were more than two people living together and having a baby together. 

Sansa took Jon’s hand in her own and threaded their fingers.  “It’s alright.  I’m nervous too.  But, excited nervous.  I think they’ll be happy for us.  I think my mother twigged something at the hospital on Thursday.  And I’m still by no means convinced we fooled Arya on Friday.  Maybe if she’d been hungover, but then my sister has sadly always been far too perceptive for everyone else’s good.”

“It’ll be alright.”

“That’s the spirit.”  They walked inside, but found the place quiet.  Almost eerily so.  It reminded Sansa of her shower, but it was unlikely they’d spring another surprise like that on her.  She doubted Arya wanted to see her cry like that again. 

“Hello?”  Sansa called out.  Her father opened the kitchen door and smiled at them.

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

Sansa went over to hug her father.  Things like this were becoming a little more difficult with her growing size.  Sansa found it hard to complain about, though.  She’d said to Jon more than once over the last couple of days that she might not be the size of a house yet, but she was definitely heading in that direction.  Sansa smiled at the recollection of Jon scoffing whenever she said such a thing, and promptly telling her she’d never looked more beautiful.

“Where is everyone?” Sansa asked as Jon handed her mother a bottle of her favourite wine, a gift from them both. 

“Out for a walk.  They shouldn’t be long.  And, you didn’t need to bring this wine with you.  But that won’t stop me from putting it in the fridge for later.”

Sansa glanced at Jon, and he nodded before taking her hand in his. 

“So, Jon and I have some news”, said Sansa, in what she hoped was a conversational tone.  Her parents had always liked Jon, and her father had been so, so supportive of them over the baby.  “We’re – well, we’re seeing each other.  Properly.”

Sansa felt Jon squeeze her hand as she looked expectantly from one parent to another.  They’d never truly warmed to Joff – or to Harry, if Sansa was honest – but they’d known and trusted Jon almost all his life.  Robb had few memories prior to their first meeting.  For the first time, it meant everything to Sansa to have them approve of her choice. 

Because, Jon was _it_.  Jon was a _forever_.  And that scared and excited her at the same time.

Her parents exchanged a look, but it was her mother who spoke first.  “I won’t pretend that I haven’t had certain suspicions……but all that I can say is how happy I am for you both.  I wasn’t sure what the future held when you told us about the baby.  After all, nothing in life is certain.  But, seeing you over the last few months, has shown me how right you are for each other.”

Sansa ducked her head shyly and glanced at Jon.  She’d seen him smile more over the last couple of days than she could ever remember before.  That meant he was happy and it thrilled Sansa that _she_ was the cause of it.  She and _their child_.

“I’ve told Jon before – I trust him more with you than I have anyone else”, her father added.

Sansa let go of Jon’s hand and hugged her parents tightly.  It meant so, so much to hear them say that.  For them to be happy, without reservation, simply because she was. 

**********

“You’re here”, Jeyne smiled.  She walked into the family room ahead of Robb, Arya and Gendry.  Sansa was sitting next to Jon on the sofa, her head resting on his shoulder while her parents finished off the cooking and readied the table.  They’d spent the majority of the last two days in bed together and Sansa was lacking both sleep and rest. 

“We are”, Sansa grinned.  She felt Jon wrap an arm around her shoulders. 

Jeyne squished herself into the chair next to the fireplace with Robb.  “Have you heard anything more about the fire?  I saw on the news this morning that the police department have arrested someone.”

“They have”, Sansa confirmed.  She had been a little shocked, but not at all surprised, when Brienne had called her on Saturday afternoon to tell her about the Bolton boy being taken into custody.  Rumours had been going around town over the last two or three weeks that he wasn’t a distant cousin of the late businessman Roose Bolton, but his secret son.  Sansa wasn’t entirely sure she believed the rumours.  Parts of them were too fantastical for words. 

“And?” Arya asked impatiently. 

“And, I can’t tell you anything more.  Professional confidentiality, I’m afraid.”  She’d told Jon, though.  He’d been relieved that the boy wouldn’t be in her class any longer.  “I can tell you that Brienne told me the school will be shut on Monday.  Principal Seaworth is reopening on Tuesday for those taking mid-term exams, and then we’ll have a staggered re-opening.  It’ll be a logistical nightmare with so many classrooms out of commission while the repairs are done.”

“I’m just relieved it wasn’t in your building”, said Robb.  “I was in a three-hour meeting from hell with Norrey and Wull, and didn’t know anything about it until I got your text.”

“I’m going to get a beer”, Arya announced.  “Anyone want?”

Gendry snorted.  “How in all seven hells are you not still suffering after Friday night?”

“Good genes”, Arya smirked.  Sansa held back mention of the hangover her father had admitted Arya suffered badly with the day before.  “Anyone?”

“One.  I’m driving”, said Robb.

Sansa turned to Jon.  “I can drive back if you want a beer or wine.  If you trust me with your car, that is.”

“I’ll take a glass of wine”, said Jon.  He rubbed gentle circles in her side and smiled at her.  “Of course I trust you with my car.  In fact, I was going to suggest putting you on my insurance – it’ll be much easier transporting a baby around in my car than yours.”

“Really?” Sansa said quietly.  She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised.  After all, they were living together.  They were having a baby together.  They’d said _I love you_ without having gone on a real date (something Sansa supposed would need to be addressed soon).  Their relationship was hardly moving along at a conventional pace. 

“Of course.”  Jon said it like it was the most natural thing in the world and Sansa wanted to kick herself for not acting on her feelings for Jon sooner.  She could feel his eyes boring into hers and it made Sansa want to drag Jon out to the car and drive home so they could spend the rest of the day as they had the last two.  It made her want to take Jon in her arms, hold on and never let go. 

“Here we are.”  Arya handed Jon a glass of wine and Sansa some fruit juice. 

“Thanks”, said Jon.  He squeezed Sansa’s hand and she took the gesture as a sign that it was time. 

“So, Jon and I have some news”, said Sansa, repeating what they’d said to her parents earlier.  She glanced at Jon.  She’d taken the last one, surely it was his turn?  Even if it was her family.

Jon coughed.  “Yeah, so, uhm.  Yeah.  Sansa and I are together.  Like, properly together.  We’re seeing each other.  In a relationship.  What – whatever term you prefer to use.”

It was Robb’s reaction that Sansa sought out, that disastrous afternoon they’d told him about the baby fresh in her mind.  The first person to say anything, however, was Arya. 

“D’uh.  Tell us something we _don’t_ know.”  Arya shot them a look and rolled her eyes.  “Seriously.  When Gendry and I were over on Friday, the two of you did nothing but give each other soppy looks.  Frankly it was nauseating.  And don’t think you were fooling anyone with your little skit on _how amazing it is having two showers_.  I went to the bathroom because the cider they serve at Gage’s always goes right through me, and there was no way in seven hells Jon had his shower in _there_.”

Not for the first time, Sansa found herself wishing that Arya came with a filter.  Given the fact he was studiously looking at the fireplace, Sansa figured Gendry probably felt the same way. 

“Also, your bedroom door was open when I went upstairs, Sans.  If you spent the morning having a nap, you definitely didn’t – “

“Okay, so you’re supportive”, put in Jon.  “That’s – that’s great news.”

Sansa was relieved.  Jon kissed her temple softly. 

“I love you”, she whispered.  Jon grinned. 

“I love you, too.”

But, still, despite the distraction of Jon, Sansa couldn’t help but overhear the conversation coming from Robb and Jeyne’s direction.  “But she’s pregnant.  Very pregnant!  Look at her!”

Sansa heard Jeyne sigh with exasperation. 

“Your sister’s pregnant, Robb, not dead.  Women have – well, pregnancy isn’t a barrier to that.”  As happy as she was to have their support, Sansa wished her family would stop talking about her sex life. 

Robb stood up and walked over to where Jon and Sansa were sitting.  He held out his hand for Jon to shake.  “Congratulations.  Even – even I could see, these last few weeks, how you look at Sansa.  I should’ve trusted you when you told me about the baby.  But, I trust you now.  I trust you with my sister – to look after her the way she deserves.  I know you love her.”

“Thank you.”  Sansa could hear the emotion in Jon’s voice and it brought tears to her eyes.  She watched as Jon stood and hugged Robb.  It meant the world to her that the two of them had rediscovered their friendship.  After watching it torn to shreds because of her and Jon, to see this was more than Sansa could put into words. 

When Robb went to sit down again, Jon brushed the fallen tears from Sansa’s cheeks and she repeated again the words she’d used at the hospital.  “They’re happy tears, I promise.”

Jon chuckled softly and pulled Sansa into his arms.  “Good.  Because they’re the only kind I ever want to see you cry.”


	22. Twenty-two - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon adjusts to his new job, does some decorating and goes on a shopping trip with Robb.

It was with a huge sigh of relief that Jon began to clear away his files on Friday afternoon.  It was the end of his first week as Assistant Head of the Pro-Bono Unit, and it had been a massive learning curve – even with the time he’d spent with Mr. Targaryen before officially moving into the post.  Jon had forgotten how mentally exhausting starting a new job could be. 

He put the Woolfield file away and looked around his new office.  It was larger than the one he’d had as an associate.  It even had a window.  Jon was still getting used to it and felt it would take a while for that to change.  After running along the street for lunch on Wednesday, he’d been halfway to his old office when he realized his mistake. 

Jon heard a knock at the door. 

“Come in.”  Alys had left early for her flight north.  She was going to visit her boyfriend, Sigorn’s, family for the first time.  Jon knew she’d be a hit.  Alys had nerves of steel. 

Mr. Targaryen walked in the door, grinning.  “How was the first week, then?”

“Good”, Jon nodded.  He hadn’t worked closely with the man before, but was looking forward to doing so in the future.  The Old Dragon and the Old Bear had worked together for years and Jon knew Mormont had offered him a chance at a named partnership, but Targaryen had turned it down.  Targaryen could have retired years before – Jon estimated him to be well into his seventies at least – but seemed to prefer to stay on.

“You’re a good lawyer, Jon.  The reporting, corporate side of things will come with time.  Your predecessor, Mr. Qorgyle, enjoyed that more than the practice of law.  I don’t think you will, though.  I think you enjoy the feeling of having done _good_ ; the feeling of having _helped_ people.”

Jon felt he had to agree with that statement.  It was a sense of justice that had sent him into the legal profession, unlike Robb who simply thought it a good, stable career.  “That sounds about right”, he admitted.  Mr. Targaryen was like that, he’d found over the last few days.  He had a tendency to be able to tell what you were thinking. 

He supposed it came down to life experience – something Mr. Targaryen had in abundance compared to him. 

“Well, we begin again on Monday.  I shall speak to you then about the Woolfield case.”  Mr.  Targaryen turned to leave.  It seemed this was to be a quick visit.  “I hope you enjoy your weekend.”

“And you”, he replied.  He wondered what Mr. Targaryen did over the weekend.  The man left, closing the door as he did so. 

“Can I help you, my dear?” Jon heard Mr. Targaryen’s voice, followed by a softer one – a voice he knew well. 

“I’m looking for Jon Snow’s office.”  Jon grinned and opened the door to see his new superior introducing himself to Sansa.  Sansa’s beaming smile greeted him, and he went over to kiss her cheek gently. 

“I’m almost done”, he told her.  Jon turned to Mr. Targaryen.  “So, you’ve met Mr. Targaryen, then.  Sir, this is Sansa, my girlfriend.”

_Girlfriend.  Mother of my child.  Hopefully, some day, my wife_.  It wasn’t a thought that scared Jon.  In fact, it actually calmed him.

Sansa held out her hand to shake.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.  Jon’s told me so much about you.  All of it good, I promise.”

“My dear, the pleasure is all mine.  I shall leave you both to your weekend.”

“Come in and sit down.”  Jon placed his hand on the small of Sansa’s back and guided her into his new office.  He settled Sansa in the seat opposite his and hurriedly put away the rest of the files scattered across his desk.  They’d arranged for Sansa to pick him up from work to take advantage of late night opening at Fenn’s to buy some paint for the nursery.  Jon had promised to spend the weekend decorating it. 

The crib Ned and Catelyn were giving them was due to arrive in a couple of weeks and Sansa was desperate for the decorating to be finished by then.  Jon was equally excited about it.  They were rapidly approaching Sansa’s due date and he couldn’t wait to meet their child. 

“I like your window”, Sansa told him.  Jon chuckled.  “What?!  I’m serious!  Robb doesn’t have a window.”

“Neither did I this time last week”, Jon sighed.  He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.  He was out of disposable contacts and with one thing and another had forgotten to order more from Wintertown Pharmacy until it was too late. 

“You look tired”, Sansa told him.  Jon could sense the concern in her voice. 

“A bit”, he admitted.  “But, we won’t be long at Fenn’s, and we can pick up some Pentoshi food on the way home for dinner.  “How was school today?”

“Good.  The last of the mid-terms have been marked and graded.  Some did better than expected, others not as good as we thought, so there needs to be some re-evaluation for the rest of the school year to make sure everyone does well on their finals.  It’s a shame to think I won’t be there for that.”

Jon knew how much Sansa’s career meant to her.  She wasn’t someone who had entered the teaching profession simply because she liked the long holidays that came with it.  He went round to her side of the desk and took her hands in his. 

“Hey.  I know you’ll miss teaching.  But, those kids have been lucky enough to have you as their teacher for most of the year.  They’ll do you proud.”  Jon bent down and kissed Sansa softly.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in closer. 

Jon groaned as Sansa slipped her tongue into his mouth and moved her hands up to run her fingers through his hair.  Knowing where this would end up if they continued, Jon pulled back and sat on the desk. 

“As much as I would love to christen my new office with you, we have paint to buy and a bed at home that is far more comfortable than my desk or chair”, he told Sansa.  “Also, I’d hate to get fired only a week into my new job just because we’re at the ‘ _can’t keep our hands off each other’_ stage.”

Sansa laughed.  “I hope we never get past that stage.”

Jon agreed and went round to shut down his computer.  He was done for the week and it was time to pick out paint for their little nugget’s first bedroom. 

**********

Jon stood back and looked at the newly-painted walls.  They’d gone for a simple shade of magnolia, just the same as already decorated the nursery, but the new paint gave it a new and fresh look.  He’d got up early, leaving Sansa in the bed that was now less _hers_ and more _theirs_ , and got a quick start on it.  Sansa had brought him a bacon sandwich and a cup of tea when he was halfway through the second wall. 

He felt a knot deep in his belly at the thought of bringing their child home to sleep in this room.  Each and every day they moved a step closer to Sansa’s due date.

It both terrified and excited him to think it so near. 

“Coffee?”  Sansa walked into the room with a cup of coffee and a wrapped chocolate biscuit.  Jon took them both gratefully and kissed her. 

“Thanks.  You look beautiful today.”  Sansa snorted.  “I mean it.”

And he did.  She had her hair up in a messy bun and wore a green maternity dress that Jon had loved to see her in since the day she’d brought it home from one of her regular outings with Margaery.  Jon kissed her again and gently caressed her bump. 

“I love you”, he told her.

Sansa giggled and tugged at his hair.  Jon had tied it back to keep it out of the way while he was painting.  “Uhm, you have…..”

“What?”  Jon grinned at Sansa and went in to tickle her lightly.

“You have paint in your hair”, she told him.  Jon lifted his hand up and felt the truth in her words.  He’d had the same problem when they moved in and painted the rest of the house. 

“I’ll need to have a shower.  Have you thought about what you want to do for the rest of the day?”  _Would you like to join me in that shower?  As we’ve discovered, there’s more than enough room for both of us.  In the main bathroom and in the en-suite._

“A shower does sound appealing”, Sansa replied, feigning a contemplative look.  “After all, you can never be _too_ clean.  Right?”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”  Jon hooked a finger in the neckline of Sansa’s dress and pulled her closer.  He wasn’t sure how he had managed to resist her for so long.  He tilted her chin, raising it towards his mouth, and began to kiss her slowly. 

It began with soft, gentle pecks, ones so light and airy they were hardly there, and Jon picking up on the heady mix of Sansa and her strawberry lip balm.  He chased the taste, licking her bottom lip, as he moved his hand down to swipe across her covered nipples. 

Sansa moaned loudly and Jon took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth.  He knew how sensitive her breasts could be and cupped them gently.  She mumbled Jon’s name into his mouth and pulled at the old t-shirt he’d thrown on. 

Jon wasn’t entirely sure they were going to make it to the shower.  He was hopeful they would at least make it to their bed.  He was loving the desire Sansa felt coursing through her veins.  It made his heart and cock sing in unison and Jon knew he would never, ever, tire of Sansa. 

She was _it_.

Jon forced himself to break apart from her and head in the direction of their bed.  If he got the bedding covered in paint, then so be it.  Saturday tended to be their laundry day anyway.  Jon whined in protest, however, at the sound of their front door. 

“Noooooo”, he complained.  Sansa laughed and pressed her forehead to his.  “Can we ignore them?”

“I wish we could.  It might be important, though.”  Jon sighed, although he knew she was right.  He let Sansa go on ahead as he tried to calm his breathing and will away the hardness that had begun to grow in his jeans at the thought of taking Sansa in their bed – and then again in the shower. 

He looked down over the staircase and saw Sansa open the door to Robb.  Jon felt a sense of relief.  Robb could most definitely have turned up at a worse time.  Jon thought back to the Sunday they’d told Sansa’s family about their relationship and Arya’s unfiltered response. 

Yes, Robb turning up after they’d had a shower would most definitely have been worse.  Even if a small, traitorous part of Jon’s mind was currently referring to him as a _cockblocker_. 

Jon felt himself able to move and went downstairs to greet his friend.  Robb was looking a tad sheepish, but his face seemed to turn confused when he took in Jon’s outfit.  “I thought you already painted?”

“I’ve been getting the nursery done”, Jon told him.  “Your parents said the crib is arriving in a couple of weeks, and we have some flat-pack furniture that needs to be made up.  A chest of drawers and a changing table.”

Jon thought the room would look great when finished.  Plain, but hopefully warm and inviting.  It brought a smile to Jon’s face whenever he thought of coming home to find Sansa sitting in the rocking chair they’d bought, feeding or singing to their little nugget. 

“Great.”  Robb sounded enthusiastic but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Are you alright?” Sansa asked as she wrapped an arm around her brother’s shoulder. 

Robb visibly gulped.  “I need some help.”

“Is it Jeyne?  Is everything alright?” Sansa asked. 

“She’s home for the weekend – her mother’s birthday.”  Jon nodded, understanding.  Sybell Westerling was most definitely _not_ Catelyn Stark.  Jon had lucked out where Robb had not.  “I thought – while she was away – it would be a good time to……get things sorted out.  For next weekend.  Next Friday.  Our anniversary.  I’m, uhm, I’m going to ask Jeyne to marry me.”

“Oh, Robb!”  Sansa squealed and threw her arms around her brother.  Jon knew how close they’d always been.  Those awful weeks when Robb hadn’t been overly accepting about the baby had been awful for both of them, but Jon had been insistent the whole way through that Sansa needed her big brother – just as Robb needed his sister now. 

Jon could hear her sob gently onto Robb’s shoulder.  Sansa had a tendency to get overly emotional from time to time.  If this was her hearing Robb was going to propose, he imagined it would be this times ten when Jeyne said yes.  And Jon held absolutely no doubt that she would do anything but accept.  Robb and Jeyne were keepers.  They were forever – just as Jon wanted himself and Sansa to be. 

“Yeah, congratulations”, Jon smiled when Sansa had let go of her brother.  He took Sansa’s hand in his and then wrapped an arm around her waist. 

“I was wondering if you two could help me pick out a ring”, said Robb.  “If you aren’t busy this afternoon, that is.  I was looking at some jewellery stores online and I just get more and more confused between cuts and sizes and whatever else.  I need a second – and potentially a third – opinion.  There’s a free dinner at Gage’s in it for you.”

Jon shrugged, pleased Robb was asking for his help.  Things were getting back to how they used to be – with the minor complication of Jon having a child with Robb’s sister.  He turned to Sansa.  “We _do_ like free food.”

She nodded in agreement.  “We do.”

Jon loved that.  He loved saying _we_ and _us_ and _ours_. 

“I have paint in my hair.  Give me twenty minutes to grab a shower and get changed, and then we can drive into town.”  Jon coughed at the redness he saw growing up Robb’s neck.  Once again, he cursed Arya’s bluntness.  “Yeah, I won’t be long.”

**********

Jon was bemused by the nervousness Robb displayed in selecting a ring.  They’d known each other almost all their lives, and in that time Robb had always been the more confident of the two of them.  It felt a little strange watching from a slight distance as Sansa patiently pointed out ring after ring while Robb seemed to lack the decisiveness to commit to one. 

It was in the third jewellers they visited that Robb started to actually focus and properly begin the decision-making process.  Jon gave them some space and looked at the necklaces on display, thinking vaguely of a gift he could purchase for Sansa while her back was turned. 

“What about that one?” he heard Robb ask, pointing at something.  Sansa chuckled in response, a gentle melodious sound. 

“Please, Robb.  Does Jeyne really seem like the sort of woman who wants to walk around with a large, garish ring on her finger?  Besides, it’d be completely impractical for her at work – never mind cleaning or doing dishes.  No, you want something that is stylish but practical.”

Robb huffed at that, but Jon noticed he moved along and pointed at another ring.  “That one?  Hells, I don’t know, Sans.  How can it be this hard to pick a damn ring?!”

“Hey, I know this is a little scary.  But, yeah, not that one.  It’s too small.  You want her to know you mean it, don’t you?”

“Fine!  Which would you choose?” 

Jon turned his head imperceptibly and took note of the ring Sansa pointed at.  _“That one.”_   It was silver – as much of her jewellery was – with a tastefully sized diamond attached.  The ring Sansa indicated shone beautifully and Jon thought of how it would look on her finger.  He was tempted to figure out a way in which she could try it on. 

One day.  One day, Jon would buy something like that for her. 

“What – hey, Sansa, what do you think to that, then?” 

“Oh, Robb.  It’s beautiful.  Jeyne will love it!”  Jon smiled at the pure love in Sansa’s words.  He turned his attention back to the necklaces and saw a wolf pendant.  Sansa had always loved wolves.  Jon quietly hailed the sales assistant and asked for the pendant to be gift wrapped.  Sansa deserved something pretty simply because he wanted to give it to her. 

He slipped the package into the inside of his jacket pocket and went over to join Sansa and Robb.  “You picked something, then?”

“Finally”, sighed Sansa.  Jon took her hand and threaded their fingers. 

“Okay, okay”, said Robb.  “Now that’s over, why don’t we go and get something to eat?  I’m starving!”

**********

“Thanks for that”, Robb said to him.  They were in Gage’s, waiting for their dessert and Sansa had left for a moment to use the bathroom. 

“Don’t worry about it.”  Robb asking things like that of him reminded Jon of how things used to be; how they were coming to be again.  “A second opinion doesn’t hurt.  Nor does a third.  Besides, you and Jeyne – the marriage thing has been inevitable for a while now.”

“Yeah.  I guess.”  Robb looked thoughtful.  “If I ask you something, do you promise not to take it the wrong way?  I’m not getting at you.  I promise that.  I just – do you ever think about it?”

“Marriage?”  Robb nodded.  “I listened to every word Sansa said to you in those jewellers.  Advice on how to pick the perfect ring.  I saw the one she said she’d choose for herself.  Hells, I know the two of us haven’t exactly been conventional and we’ve only been together a fortnight or so and we’ve been on precisely one actual date, but…….one day, Robb.  One day not very far in the future, I’m going back to that jewellers and I’m going to take Sansa’s advice and then I’m going to ask her to be my wife.”

“Good.  And I say that as your friend, not as Sansa’s brother.  I see the way you look at her.  Jon, I don’t remember you being this happy.  Ever.”

Jon took a sip of the soda he’d ordered with his meal.  “Yeah, I know.  I want to give us a few months without any pressure, and then I’m going to ask her.  We live together, she’s having my child, she’s – I love her.”

Sansa re-joined them at the table.  “Sorry about that.  Pregnancy bladder.  Our little nugget needs something to play with and he or she has decided my bladder looks like a good squeeze toy.”

Jon laughed at the embarrassed horror on Robb’s face.  While his friend was most definitely ready to be a husband, Jon thought it best if he experienced being an uncle before becoming a father.  It was strange to think on.  Six months ago, Jon wouldn’t have seen himself as ready.  He was now, though.  And Sansa was only around twelve weeks away from her due date. 

“So, what were you two talking about when I was away?”

Robb gave a deep, low, rumbling cough.  “Football.”

**********

When they returned home, Jon and Sansa’s first port of call was the nursery.  They’d chosen the same quick-drying paint as before, and it gleamed in the early evening sunshine.  The days were just beginning to lengthen and more than once, Jon had found Sansa in the garden after dinner.  Ned had given him some seeds to plant the weekend before and Sansa checked them almost daily to see if the flowers were beginning to come up through the earth. 

Their situation was so domesticated and Jon wouldn’t have it any other way.  Even if he was willing to allow Robb to pretend they never discussed their personal lives the way Sansa did with Margaery. 

“I think the crib should go opposite me, the changing table by the door, and the rocking chair would be great here”, said Sansa, standing in the corner.  “You can see out of the window.  It’ll be nice to look outside when I’m trying to get the baby to sleep, or nursing.  We, uh, we haven’t really talked about that, have we?”

Jon felt himself blush slightly.  “Uh, no.  But, then, I guess I figured that was your decision to make.  If you want to feed the baby yourself, then I’ll support you.  If you don’t, then I’ll support you.”

“I do.  Want to, I mean.  That won’t weird you out?”

“Sharing your tits with our child?”  The words had escaped Jon’s mouth before he could stop them, and Jon slapped a hand up to his face.  He was mortified.  “Shit, I’m so, so, so sorry, Sansa.  I shouldn’t have said it like that!”

Sansa laughed and moved over to pull him into a hug.  “I love you.”

“Thank the gods for that!  I don’t mind, no.  But, like I said, I think it should be your choice.”  Jon hadn’t taken off his jacket when Sansa had shed hers downstairs, hanging it up on the coat pegs they’d put up just inside the front door.  He reached into the inside pocket and pulled out the pendant he’d bought her at the jewellers.  “For you.”

“For me?”  Sansa seemed surprised.  “But, why?  What’s the occasion?”

“Because I love you.  Because I wanted to buy something pretty for you.”  Jon kissed Sansa’s temple.  “Do I need a special occasion for that?”

Jon saw the happy tears he was becoming familiar with glisten around Sansa’s eyes.  “No.  I don’t suppose you do.”

He watched as she opened the parcel and carefully lifted the pendant out of the box to study it in the light.  The smile on her face made the gift worth every dragon he’d spent on it. 

“Oh, Jon.  It’s beautiful!  Thank you!”  She hugged him tightly, and Jon soon found her hand squeezing his ass through the back pocket of his jeans.  Jon moaned into her mouth and his mind drifted back to earlier on that day. 

The shower sex could wait until tomorrow morning, but that didn’t mean everything else he’d had planned for earlier needed to.  Jon took a step back and then held out his hand for Sansa.  

“Thanks to your brother, we missed out on some stuff before.  How about we go work off that dinner he bought us?  I quite like the idea of you in that new necklace.  And _only_ that new necklace.”  Sansa’s eyes darkened at that, and Jon led her through to their bedroom. 

He had absolutely no intention of leaving their bed until Sunday morning. 


	23. Twenty-three - Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa makes her first career versus family choice as the home-stretch of her pregnancy comes into sight.

Sansa rubbed the small of her back as she tidied up her classroom at the end of Thursday afternoon.  It had started to pain her more and more over the last few days and all she wanted at this moment was to sink into a long, hot bubble bath. 

She made sure all of the chairs were secured in place to make things easier on the evening cleaning staff and shut down her computer.  Sansa was just about to double check all sockets were switched off when there was a knock on the door. 

“Come in”, she called.  Brienne walked through the door, smiling. 

“Good day?”

“Yes, I think so”, Sansa replied.  Her day had finished with a class in their penultimate year of study, some of whom were very advanced.  All were enthusiastic and their mid-term results had generally been excellent – with one or two verging on exceptional. 

“I’m glad.”  Brienne sat down on the edge of Sansa’s desk.  “Sansa, I don’t want to pressure you at all, but I met with Principal Seaworth earlier.  We were going through some plans for the next academic year and he asked if you’d come to a decision yet about your maternity leave.”

“Oh.”  Sansa was surprised.  With everything that had been going on over the last while – moving house, she and Jon getting together, their little nugget growing inside of her – the topic had lain dormant.  Sansa had thought about it from time to time, but was undecided, and Brienne hadn’t brought it up in weeks.

Brienne raised a hand.  “I don’t need your answer right now.  I don’t need it tomorrow, and I don’t need it next week.  If you haven’t decided then that is fine.”

Sansa lowered her head momentarily and then raised it.  “The truth is, I haven’t come to a decision yet.  There’s been so much else……I’ll have an answer for you by the beginning of next week.  I promise, Brienne.  I’m sorry.”

She felt it slightly unprofessional to have left Brienne hanging for so long. 

“You know that you can change your mind, don’t you?  Whatever you decide.”

Sansa nodded.  “Thanks.  It’s amazing that the school will let me have some flexibility.  I know I haven’t been here long compared to a lot of the teachers.  To be able, hypothetically, to take a whole twelve months off is great.”

“Okay.  And how are you feeling?  I know we spoke about you finishing around four weeks before your due date.  Is that still a reasonable target, or would you prefer to finish sooner?  I don’t want it to be any later.”

“That’s fine”, Sansa laughed.  “You know, I’m no more interested in the idea of giving birth in this classroom than you are.  Four weeks will be fine unless things change between now and then.”

Brienne came over and gave her an uncharacteristic hug.  “I’m sure everything will be fine.  You’ve got that great man to look after you.”

Sansa felt herself blush a little at that.  Jon _did_ look after her, and in more ways than one.  Marge had said something similar when they’d had dinner the other night and meant it in a different manner as Brienne intended.  Sansa had never really felt comfortable discussing her sex life in the same detail as Marge, but she’d felt confident enough to tell her friend that things were Jon were far better than they’d been with anyone else.

And that was true.  Just thinking about sex with Jon was enough to get Sansa excited.  Since that first night she’d taken Marge’s advice and ended up with Jon’s mouth on her, Sansa’s vibrator hadn’t seen the light of day.  It remained closed away in her bedside drawer. 

Sansa wouldn’t be opposed to it remaining there forever – unless Jon was up for a little play.

“Any more news on the Bolton boy?” Sansa asked.  Brienne had told her that he was being held at a juvenile detention centre near Torrhen’s Square until his trial. 

“Nope.  Principal Seaworth thinks his trial will be held during the autumn, though.  Arson is a serious charge.  Even if he was just trying to delay his Physics mid-term.”

**********

Sansa shrugged off her coat as she walked in the door and hung it on the peg.  She was exhausted.  Her energy burst had waned of late, making her more amenable to Jon’s insistence she do as little as possible around the house – and his refusal to allow her to carry anything heavier than her shoulder bag. 

Her watch told her that it was a little after quarter past four.  Jon would not be home for a little over an hour.  She went upstairs with the vague thought of running a bath, one of the few things that soothed her poor back, but her bed looked so _inviting_ and Sansa decided to lie down for a moment.    

Just a moment, she thought as she lay her head on the pillow on her side of the bed.  Just a moment, and then I’ll get up. 

**********

The next thing Sansa knew, Jon was next to her, running his fingers through her hair and smiling down at her.  She yawned, stretched, and then sat up, leaning into Jon’s side.  “What’s the time?”

“A little after five thirty.  You sleep long?”

Sansa nodded.  “An hour.  Just over.  I only lay my head down for a moment.  I meant to run myself a bath.”

“Your back sore again?”

“A little”, Sansa admitted.  It wasn’t about looking braver than she was in front of Jon; it was about making sure he didn’t worry about her too much.  He had enough on his plate.  “Our little nugget is stretching out in here, is all.”

Sansa placed a hand on her belly.  Jon’s joined her, threading his fingers through hers.  He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.  “How about I run you a bath, lots of relaxing salts and so on, set up some candles, and join you?”

“That sounds good.”  Sansa perked up at his suggestion.  For all her energy surge had waned, her desire for Jon had not.  Barely a day went by without some sort of sexual contact between them.  Sansa hoped that continued in the years to come.

********** 

Ten minutes later, Sansa was in a beautiful, hot bubble bath, leaning back into Jon while he washed her hair for her.  The strain on her back was lightened and Sansa felt relaxed.  Jon massaged her scalp carefully and it soothed Sansa in the same way as it did when she went to have her hair done at a salon. 

“Oh, that’s good”, she moaned.  “Is there anything you can’t do?”

Jon chuckled gently.  “There’s lots of things I can’t do, trust me.  How was work today?”

“Good.  It was good.  I spoke to Brienne at the end of the day.  She……she mentioned that Principal Seaworth had been asking about my maternity leave.”  Sansa picked up a block of soap from the ledge to her left and began to work it up and down her arms.  She wanted this to be something she and Jon discussed together.

“Oh?  Are they pushing you to make a decision?”

“No.”  Sansa shook her head and set the soap back down.  “They were just doing some advance planning.  But, I have been holding off on a decision with everything else that’s been going on.”

She turned her head round to face Jon.  He loosely curled the ends of her hair around his fingers.  “What are you thinking?”

Sansa paused.  “In an ideal world?  Our little nugget will only have his or her first year the once.  I would love to be around for all of that.  I would love for _both_ of us to be around for that, but it is in no way feasible.”

Sansa thought of the conflict she faced between wanting to build her career and livelihood, and the desire to be there for her little nugget.  She thought of her own mother, who had always stayed at home, and how much it had meant to her as a child to have her mother there, whenever she needed her.

“I wish I could be around for both of you all the time too”, said Jon.  “But, with this new job I can work from home quite a bit.  A day a week, to work on reports.  Sansa, do you want to take the full year?”

Sansa swallowed.  She _did_ want to take the year.  But sometimes practicalities had to be considered, and she told Jon so.  He leaned forward and kissed her softly, cupping her face. 

“I told you when we spoke about this before that you didn’t need to worry about the money side of things.  If you want to take a year, then take a year.  Like you said, little nugget will only be so small once.”

“I do”, said Sansa in a small voice.  She felt a small weight lift off her shoulders at voicing it aloud.  The stubborn Stark streak in her was hesitant about being so financially reliant on Jon.  With Joff and Harry, she had always paid her way.  Not that it had gained her their respect, mind. 

She reminded herself yet again that Jon was different; Jon treated her like an equal, even if he did spoil her with small gifts and gestures. 

“Good.”  Jon smiled.  “Oh, I meant to tell you – I got a text from Robb this afternoon.  He’s booked a table and a room at the Wintertown Grand for tomorrow night, for his proposal.  I think he’s nervous.”

Sansa sighed.  “I don’t see why.  Not really.  Jeyne’s going to say _yes_.  They’ve been heading in this direction for years, though I admit it’s nice to see them finally reach their destination.”

She couldn’t wait for the text or call to confirm they were engaged.  Sansa had looked up to Robb her entire life.  Even when he was mean to her – including those weeks he’d been so stubborn about the baby – her big brother had always been a bit of a hero to her.  She wanted him to be happy, and she knew that Jeyne would bring him nothing less than great happiness.

Sansa turned back around and leaned into Jon again.  She felt him kiss her shoulder, and move his lips slowly, seductively, up her neck.  “One day, that’ll be us.  I promise, sweetheart.  One day, that’ll be us.”

She felt her heart skip a beat at Jon’s words.  Had he just - ? Had Jon just indicated he’d maybe like to _marry_ her someday?  They’d been together a matter of weeks and even if you counted the conception of their little nugget it had been mere months. 

And then, right in that moment, Sansa knew that whenever that day came, her answer would – could – only ever be YES.

**********

The following day, Friday, Jon arrived home before her.  Sansa’s after-school meeting for the fire wardens had gone on well over the hour it generally took, and so she parked her car behind Jon’s.  She arranged the files she’d brought home to work on over the weekend in a manageable pile (Hyle, who had carried them to the car for her, wasn’t the neatest of human beings) for Jon to bring inside. 

Sansa was looking forward to the weekend.  Two whole days in which she could take a nap whenever she liked, could wear comfy and cosy clothes without being judged for it, and could be with Jon. 

Their bath the night before had been blissful.  Sansa could think of no other word to describe it.  Just lying there in Jon’s arms……Sansa always felt so safe when she was with him.  As if no harm could befall her.  Safe and loved.  She felt loved. 

It had been such a long day.  One Sansa had started by telling Brienne of her decision on maternity leave.  Although Sansa had been confident she’d made the right choice for herself, she felt a tad guilty telling Brienne.  It was almost as if she felt she was letting the department down by taking so much time off.  Brienne hadn’t seemed surprised, though, which made Sansa feel a little better. 

Sansa wondered if she’d spend the next twenty years being torn between her career and her child.

She walked into the house to find no trace of Jon downstairs.  She walked up to the bedroom that had now become theirs, calling his name.  “Jon?  Jon, are you up here?  Jon?”

Entering their bedroom door, Sansa could smell lemons and hear the sound of running water.  She felt a smile grow across her face.  She leaned against the frame of the door into the en-suite. 

“What is this?”  Jon was crouched on the floor and had clearly not got home just before her.  His loosened tie, socked feet and turned up shirt sleeves spoke to that.  Sansa’s smile grew further as she took in the scented candles Jon had lit and the bubble bath he had run – as well as his sheepish smile. 

“It did so much for you yesterday, I figured it was a good way for you to start the weekend.”

Sansa moved over to Jon and leaned down to kiss him soundly.  She wasn’t quite sure what she had done in this life or her last to deserve him.  Whatever it was, Sansa was truly grateful for it.  “One condition, though.  You join me, just like you did last night.”

Jon grinned wolfishly.  “Oh, I think I can manage that.”  Two minutes later, they were both naked and in the bath. 

“This is the life”, Sansa sighed happily.  “We’ll need to make the most of it.  Only ten weeks until we have night feeds and a crying baby to worry about.”

“Yeah, but I’m looking forward to it all – the good and the bad.”

“I’ll remind you of that when we’ve gone days without an uninterrupted sleep and can’t remember the last time you wore a shirt that didn’t wind up with vomit on it”, Sansa told him.  “I remember when Rickon was a baby.  And Gilly has been brutally honest.  I like that, though.  It means I’ll be prepared.”

Sansa’s phone buzzed from the ledge next to her and she grabbed hold of it filled with anticipation.  She’d placed it there in case Robb texted.  A quick look at the phone revealed her big brother’s name.  Sansa bit her lip and opened his text message. 

_Decided I couldn’t wait until after dinner.  Jeyne said YES!  Come over tomorrow night for dinner to help us celebrate.  We’re off to do that now.  Robb._

Sansa squealed, her happiness consuming her. 

**********

The following evening, Sansa drove them both over to Robb and Jeyne’s apartment to allow Jon the option of having a glass of wine or a beer.  She wondered idly if Robb and Jeyne might think about moving, of buying a place, now they were officially engaged. 

Jon carried up the bottle of champagne they’d bought earlier that day, his other hand holding onto Sansa’s tightly.  She loved how right this felt.  As if she and Jon had always been together, going to Robb and Jeyne’s for dinner.  Two happy couples spending time together. 

Sansa looked forward to after the baby’s birth and the dinners they’d talked about that night at House of Black and White.  Robb and Jeyne could come over and share a meal and a couple of bottles of wine.  She could see it all so, so clearly, she thought as they walked up the stairs in Robb and Jeyne’s building. 

“Sansa!” Jeyne exclaimed as soon as she opened the door.  She quickly found herself enveloped in the arms of her future sister-in-law, Jon’s hand still tightly wrapped in her own.  “Wow!  You look amazing.”

“So do you”, Sansa replied warmly as Jeyne let go of her and stepped back.  “And I love the ring.  Congratulations.”

Jeyne was beaming.  “Yeah, thanks.  It still hasn’t completely sunk in yet.  You two were the only people we told yesterday.  I phoned my parents when we got back from the Wintertown Grand around midday.  My mother has already sent me e-mails and texts about everything from caterers to dresses to centre-pieces.  But, wow.  You look radiant.”

“Let them get in the door.”  Robb appeared behind Jeyne, and Sansa hugged her brother.  She was so, so excited for him. 

“We brought this.  Congratulations, guys”, said Jon.  Sansa busied herself removing her coat as Robb and Jon caught up. 

“I’ll take that”, Jeyne told her.  “How long do you have to go now?”

“Ten weeks.  It’s crept up very quickly.  I don’t have that long to go until my final scan, and the nursery is all decorated, and I have six weeks left at work.”  Sansa followed Jeyne into the kitchen, where she could smell a beautiful bolognaise bubbling away.  “And I seem to have grown as big as a house over the last couple of weeks.  Baby growth spurt!”

“Well, I think you look amazing.  Orange juice?”

“Please.”  Sansa sat down at the breakfast bar.  She could feel her feet begin to swell in the pretty-rather-than-practical shoes she’d decided to wear.  She should’ve worn her ballet pumps instead. 

Jeyne put the drink in front of her, and they were soon joined by Robb and Jon.  Robb insisted on opening the champagne immediately and Sansa found herself wishing she could join them.  She supposed half a glass wouldn’t hurt, but didn’t want to take the risk.  All through her pregnancy she’d chosen what was best for the baby over what she wanted for herself – and she wasn’t about to change that over half a glass of champagne. 

“To Robb and Jeyne!” said Jon, when Robb had filled all the glasses. 

“Robb and Jeyne!” Sansa echoed.  “What did mum and dad say?”

Robb snorted.  “We stopped by on the way back from the Wintertown Grand.  Dad said he hoped we would be as happy as he and mum have been.  Mum cried.  A lot.  Dad told me later that she’s been a bit emotional recently.  Women things – and the baby.  Her first grandchild.  Any future ones will have a lot to live up to.”

Sansa rolled her eyes.  _Women things_.  Her brother might be getting married, but Sansa still wasn’t sure he understood much about women.  Sometimes she wondered if he considered her gender to be a different – though equal – species.

“Arya’s reaction was my favourite”, laughed Jeyne.  “We had a video call with her and Gendry this afternoon.  She simply rolled her eyes, said it was hardly a surprise, and said we’d have to work at it if we wanted to get her into a fancy dress for the wedding.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Arya”, said Sansa.  “I’m quite sure she and Gendry won’t announce their engagement.  They’ll simply come up for a visit, announce they’ve got married as if they’re talking about something they picked up at the grocery store, and then change the subject.”

“I do have a plan to get her into a dress, though”, said Jeyne.  “I was hoping both of you would be bridesmaids.”

“You can’t get married this year, then!” Sansa replied instantly.  She grabbed hold of Jeyne’s arm.  If she was going to be a bridesmaid, her brother’s wedding would have to wait until she was back to her normal size.  Sansa knew it was vain and a little petty of her, but she wanted to look her best for Robb’s big day.  And she’d have to get her pre-baby figure back. 

Robb and Jeyne exchanged a look.  “Actually, we already decided to wait until next year”, said Robb.

Jeyne nodded in agreement.  “Aside from the logistics, we’ve been thinking about putting down a deposit on a place of our own.  A house.  We’ve been talking about getting something more long-term ever since Robb moved in.  And we can’t afford to do both this year.  Even with my mother offering to pay for most of the wedding.”

Sansa felt a little better, and excited to hear about their house-search.  Jon took her hand. 

“I don’t know what you were worried about”, he told her.  “You look beautiful in anything.”

“You too are too sweet.  You’re giving me a toothache.  And I say that as a newly-engaged woman”, sighed Jeyne.  “Gods, are you like this around Arya?”

“Yeah.  She wasn’t too happy about it”, Sansa replied.  When her sister had brought the subject up, Sansa had reminded her of their New Year’s video call – a video call which Arya had spent the entirety of on Gendry’s lap, repeatedly making suggestive comments about how the two of them would celebrate the coming of a new year. 

Arya had simply replied that she’d drunk a lot of tequila that night, and Sansa couldn’t use that as an excuse.

**********

After dinner, Sansa’s back started to play up a little.  She refused to allow it to ruin the evening.  Jon, however, soon picked up on what was going on.  He waited until Robb had gone to get a bottle of wine to top up their glasses, and Jeyne was taking a call from her sister, Eleyna. 

“Back?”  Sansa nodded. 

“We’re not leaving, though”, she told him firmly. 

Jon held up his hands.  “I wasn’t going to suggest it, I promise.  Here.”

He had her adjust the way she was sitting on the sofa, and began to rub gently at the small of her back.  Sansa sighed happily as the motion began to ease her pain a little.  “Oh, Jon.  Gods, but that feels good.”

Jon kissed the side of her neck.  “Stop saying this like that while we’re here.  They make me want to take you off to Robb’s bathroom and have you make more sounds like that.”

Sansa moaned at his words, and at the feel of his hands on her.  She’d long since decided that Jon had magical hands.  The idea of a quickie in her brother’s bathroom wasn’t appealing to Sansa, but sore back or not she was most definitely going to make good on that as soon as they got home.  “A little to the left.  Yeah, there.” 

“What’s wrong?”  Jeyne came back into the room, followed closely by Robb. 

“Her back is sore”, said Jon.  “Massaging it helps.  You want a bath when we get back?”

Sansa shook her head.  “It isn’t as bad as it’s been the last few days.”

“Should you see Doc. Luwin about it?” Robb asked.  He seemed concerned.  Sansa found it sweet. 

“No.  It’s…..normal, Robb.  The baby’s stretching out is all.” 

Jon wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her belly protectively.  She loved it when he did that.  Their child hadn’t even been born yet, and Jon was already acting as a father should.  He kissed her shoulder gently and Sansa saw Robb’s eyes soften at the gesture. 

She flashed her brother a quick smile, one he returned.  Sansa knew Robb saw that Jon made her as happy as Jeyne made him.  And, one day, Jon would give her a ring that said that as officially as Robb had declared his love for Jeyne. 

**********

When they were leaving, Robb took advantage of Jon’s trip to the bathroom to speak to Sansa.  “This’ll be you one day.”

Sansa smiled.  “I know.”

“I might be breaking the best friend code, but he definitely took notes when you came ring shopping with me.”

Sansa fidgeted slightly with her coat.  “He said.  Sort of.  Well, we were talking about you proposing to Jeyne and he said one day, that’d be us.  Jon – he makes me happy, Robb.  Happier than I have ever been before.”

“Yeah, I know.  If I’d had more sense, I’d have tried to set the two of you up years ago.  Jeyne suggested it once or twice, you know.”  Jeyne approached them, and Robb took her hand.  “I should’ve listened to her.  She’s right more than I am.”

“I want that in writing, and on the place settings at our wedding”, said Jeyne with a grin.  Robb rolled his eyes, but pulled her in closer all the same. 

Sansa smiled at how happy they were together.  Yes, there would be more nights like this.  More nights in which she and Jon, and Robb and Jeyne, spent time together.  They would be close, and one day their children would be too. 


	24. Twenty-four - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon moves down the hallway.

Jon swallowed his nerves and approached Sansa.  He’d gone backwards and forwards in his head as he loaded the dishwasher.  In the end, he’d decided to be brave and speak to her.  It was soon, yes, but their relationship had hardly moved along at a conventional pace.  And Sansa might wish to keep her space. 

She was sitting on her bed – _their_ bed – reading the new biography of Septon Barth that had been delivered the day before, the book resting on her ever-expanding belly.  Jon knew Sansa was currently teaching one of her classes about the reign of King Jaehaerys I.  In spite of his nerves, Jon felt a grin split across his face at the sight of Sansa’s screwed up in concentration. 

“Hey.  How’s the book?” he asked.  Sansa set it down on her bedside table. 

“Good.  A lot better than Yandel’s take on him, though I doubt that would be difficult.”  Jon went over and sat next to Sansa, taking her hand in his.  He took a deep breath in and then let it out.  “Jon?”

“I wondered what you thought about me moving in here.  Permanently.  Turning the room I haven’t slept in for weeks into a study or a spare.  Or a bit of both, maybe.  I want – I want us to live together properly.”  Jon scanned Sansa’s face for a reaction and saw her eyes begin to glisten slightly. 

“Oh, _Jon_.”  Sansa bit her lip and then threw her arms around him.  “Yes.  Yes!  It already feels like this is _our_ bed rather than mine.  I’ll clear some storage space for you.  I wasn’t using all of it anyway, but still……..”

“I love you”, he told her. 

“Me too.”  Sansa removed herself from Jon’s embrace and he caught a wicked smile form.  “Let’s celebrate.”

Jon threaded his fingers through Sansa’s.  “What did you have in mind?”

“Something that doesn’t require us to be clothed.”  She quirked an eyebrow as she spoke.  Her words lay between them while Sansa began to remove the dress-shirt she wore.  Jon watched her unbutton it slowly, tortuously, imagining her deft and nimble fingers doing the same to the buttons on his own shirt. 

Sansa’s tongue darted out of her mouth and moved slowly along her bottom lip.  Jon wanted to take that bottom lip between his.

He quickly caught sight of the pale blue bra she wore underneath the dress.  Sansa had come back from a shopping trip with Margaery the previous weekend with a large pile of new underwear, explaining that her pregnancy had moved her up a size again. 

Sansa had modelled all of the new lingerie for him.  That had been a good night.  Jon had been rock hard by the third or fourth bra. 

He reached out now and cupped her breast, filling his hand.  Sansa moaned, covering his hand with her own and releasing her breast from the flimsy lace that covered it.  Her breasts were still sensitive from time to time, but Jon knew Sansa would redirect his touch if she felt them overly tender. 

Jon kneaded her breast, his fingers eventually finding her nipple and gently bringing it to a soft peak.  He bent his head down, taking the nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.  Jon loved losing himself in Sansa.  Their bodies seemed to meld together and it was almost as if they had always been intended to bring each other pleasure. 

“ _Gods, Jon_.”  He glanced upward to see Sansa’s head thrown back.  Jon took his mouth off Sansa’s nipple and kissed his way up her bared neck.  She whined as he found her pulse point and sucked away like a horny teenager trying to mark his territory. 

He pulled himself back and stood up, looking down at Sansa.  Her shirt-dress was fully open, revealing her bra, one breast tucked in and the other still, invitingly, out, her belly and her panties.  Sansa’s eyes were heavily lidded and reminded him of the blue of the ocean.  Jon held out a hand and pulled Sansa to her feet. 

Jon helped Sansa shrug off the shirt-dress and unhooked her bra, freeing the other breast and leaving Sansa clad in only her panties.  He growled.  “Fuck.”

“Yes, please”, Sansa grinned.  “Only, you’re wearing too many clothes.”

Jon leaned in and bit her earlobe.  “We’ll fix that in a minute.”

He kissed his way down her body, starting at the neck he felt deserved more attention, and ending where her belly met her panties, his fingers running up and down her side as he teased Sansa with his mouth.  When he reached that point, Jon glanced up at Sansa and saw the desire in her eyes.  The blue ocean in them had darkened, showing him the depths of the sea-bed. 

His hands moved lower now, gripping onto her ass, and his mouth went to those panties.  Jon felt himself grow harder as he realized how wet Sansa was there.  So, so wet and it was all for him.  He dipped out his tongue and dampened them further, Sansa’s whines and moans filling his head. 

Jon drew it out, finally grabbing the edge of the flimsy, lacy material in his teeth and pulling Sansa’s panties down.  And _this_ , this was trust she showed in him, allowing him free reign to pleasure her and to show him how much pleasure she derived from his touch.  Jon thought of that as he inhaled her scent and tasted what to him was the nectar of the gods. 

He could hear Sansa chanting his name over and over again while he pulled his tongue along her slit.  He could feel her hands on his scalp, massaging his wild curls, while his tongue gently probed her entrance.  He could smell and taste her arousal while his tongue found her clit and massaged and sucked at it. 

Sansa consumed him and Jon couldn’t help but feel that it filled him with love and comfort rather than fear. 

**********

Hours later, Jon lay naked on top of the duvet, running his fingers through Sansa’s her, smiling stupidly at her as she nestled into his side.  After he’d brought her off with his mouth, Jon had her ride him until he couldn’t hold on any longer and spilled inside her.  The second time, he’d taken her on all fours, which they’d discovered was a lot better for her than Jon being on top. 

“That was amazing”, Sansa sighed.  Jon could feel the happy tiredness in her voice.  He curled the ends of her hair around his finger as he was wont to do when they lay together afterwards, idly regaining their breath and composure. 

“Yeah, it was.  But, then, it’s never _not_ been amazing with you”, Jon told her honestly.  He’d found a connection with Sansa that made it more than simple coupling.  Jon thought back to their night together; the night their child had been conceived.  There were still so many gaps in his memory of that night, but the fragments he could remember spoke of something more than simple lust. 

Jon hadn’t sowed any wild oats in his youth, having pursued little more than a handful of sexual relationships prior to his night with Sansa, but it was enough that he’d learned the difference between love and lust.

“We should have been doing this for years.”

“We should”, he agreed.  Jon regretted that he had never spoken of his interest in Sansa before.  Much would have differed had he found the courage to do so. 

“I do think, however, that we’ve more than made up for it at this point.”  She laughed as she spoke.  Jon felt the truth in her words.  Since that awful day his heart had frozen at the thought of losing Sansa, they’d had sex – even if it was just oral – more than once a day, every day. 

But Jon loved the other side of the physicality of their relationship as much as he did seeing Sansa come undone just for him.  He loved holding her like this, and being able to kiss her whenever he wanted, and the way their bodies always seemed to be drawn to each other. 

Sansa reached up and took his hand, threading their fingers.  “ _Oh.  Wow.  Oh._ ”

Jon sat up immediately when Sansa squeezed his hand tightly.  She still had around eight weeks to go.  He panicked at the thought what they’d just done might have hurt the baby.  None of the books he’d borrowed from Sam had suggested it could.  In fact, they even suggested sex as a means of bringing on labour naturally if a mother had passed her due date.

“Sansa?  Sansa, what is it?”  Jon hoped his voice hid the panic he felt. 

“Here, feel it”, Sansa said softly.  Jon was calmed by the tone of her voice, but found his heart skipping a beat a moment later as he felt the baby kick.

“Wow”, he blurted out.  “Fuck, Sansa.  This one’s got a good kick on him or her.”

Jon’s mind drifted back to the night Sansa had woken him up and he’d felt his child move inside her for the first time.  This child hadn’t even been born yet, Jon didn’t even know if he had fathered a son or a daughter, but he or she already held his heart in a vice.  Jon would cut the palm of his hand open for this child in an instant, should it be asked of him. 

He spread his open palm over Sansa’s belly and felt her hands cover his.  This was so, so, _so_ much more than simply feeling their child move.  The movement was much clearer. As he or she stretched out and kicked, it was like Jon and Sansa were having a very real interaction with the baby.  As if they could reach out and touch each other.  They were going to be a real family.

“I can’t wait to meet our little nugget”, said Sansa. 

“Yeah”, Jon whispered in agreement.  He wasn’t sure words had yet been invented to describe how he felt in this moment and he thought it likely that experience would be repeated on the day he and Sansa finally met their little nugget properly.

“It’s creeping up on us, isn’t it?  Eight more weeks to go.  The first few weeks seemed to last so long, and yet it feels like only yesterday that we went for our first scan.”  It was not long until their final scan.  “We should talk of our last scan.”

It was as if she’d read his mind, until Jon realized he’d spoken aloud.  “Oh.”

“We do need to make a final decision on whether we want to find out the baby’s gender.”  Jon was surprised.  He thought they’d already come to a decision and told Sansa so.  “I know, but I’ve gone back and forth on it a bit over the last few days.  It would be the more practical thing to do.”

“ _Oh_.”  Jon couldn’t deny that she had a point.  But, he wanted to save that reveal for the day the baby was born.  It was like reading up on spoilers for his favourite TV shows online. 

“We don’t need to decide at this moment.  We have a couple of weeks.  And I’ll probably have gone back and forth on it again a hundred times by then.”

Jon nodded.  As he felt their little nugget kick out again, Jon hoped again that they would wait.  He and Sansa could discuss it again later. 

**********

A few days later, Ned and Catelyn came over to be there for the delivery of the crib they’d ordered.  While Sansa showed Catelyn all they’d bought on their last trip to Northern Nursery, Jon took Ned out to the back garden and showed him the first bursts of seedlings that were beginning to come through the soil.  Sansa would have her summer flowers soon.  Jon pictured her sitting outside reading, the baby asleep in a covered pram next to her. 

“It’ll take a few years to get the garden the way you want it”, Ned told him. 

“Yeah, the previous owners didn’t really do anything with it.  But, Sansa likes flowers.  And I always had them in the garden growing up”, Jon replied.  He remembered the blue, winter roses his mother had loved and cultivated.  She’d loved those flowers, he thought. 

“How’s the new job going?"

“Good.  Yeah, good.”

“New home, new job, new baby…….all at once.”

Jon laughed.  He was doing all those things at once, wasn’t he?  “I’m managing it all, though.  I do the reporting side of things on a Friday afternoon and I don’t need to be in the office for it.  So, that’s already a slot where I can work from home.  The firm is giving me three weeks off when the baby is born.”

“I got a week when Robb was born.  Took another week’s leave.”

“Times change.  I remember my mother saying she went back to work a couple of months after I was born.  There was an old woman, Nan, who lived next door.  She looked after me while my mother was working.”  Jon was relieved Sansa wouldn’t need to do that.  Sansa could have an entire year with their little nugget. 

He felt it too soon to discuss it, but if Sansa wanted to then Jon was happy for her to only go back part-time when the year was up.  He was also open to her taking a career break until their son or daughter started school.  Whatever worked for Sansa, he would make work for him.   

“Jon?”  He turned round to see Sansa walking through the back door.  “That’s the van here.”

He and Ned walked back inside and through the house.  Jon could see a couple of delivery men carrying a beautiful wooden crib up the path to their front door.  He grabbed Sansa’s hand and brought it up to kiss the palm. 

Jon opened the door to greet the delivery man, directing him up to the nursery while Ned signed off on the completed order.  He wondered idly if Ned and Catelyn didn’t want he and Sansa to think of how much their gift had cost.  Ultimately, this baby would be their first grandchild.  Jon hoped the spoiling their little nugget was bound to receive wouldn’t ruin him or her. 

“Thank you.”  Ned shook hands with the delivery man, and all four of them then went upstairs to the nursery to see it situated.  The crib had been left just inside the door, so Ned helped Jon move it to the spot he and Sansa had picked out. 

Jon loved the crib.  It was wooden, but painted in an off-white colour and looked vintage.  Jon decided it was exactly the thing Sansa would have chosen herself. 

“Oh, Jon, it’s just beautiful”, she sighed.  Jon saw her eyes brimming with happy tears again.  Sansa had been increasingly emotional of late as the end of her pregnancy neared.  She placed her hand on top of her belly.  “The room is ready now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.  It is.”  Jon pulled Sansa into his side and kissed the top of her head gently.  The nursery was painted, now fully furnished, and they didn’t really have anything left to buy.  If he had to, however, Jon would lay a generous bet that he and Sansa would find things to buy. 

“You’ve done a great job with it”, said Catelyn.  Jon saw her look around the room and take in the little touches here and there that Sansa had used to bring colours other than white into the room.  The rocking chair they’d bought had a beautiful red and black checked rug on it.  There was a Peter Rabbit lamp in the corner, full of greys and blues.  There were numerous stuffed animals situated throughout the room, and a blackout blind with grey and silver stars that Jon had fitted to the window. 

“Thank you.  A team effort”, he told her loyally.

Sansa snorted.  “Jon did all the hard work and I did the decorative stuff at the end.”

“A team effort”, he repeated.  “I’m awful at the decorative stuff, as you call it.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I can’t tell you how excited I am”, Catelyn said to Sansa.  “It really isn’t that long until the big day, is it?”

“Eight weeks”, said Sansa. 

“Your due date is in eight weeks, but that doesn’t mean the baby will stick to it”, said Catelyn.  “Robb was ten days late – “

“Setting a lifetime trend”, put in Ned, grinning. 

“You were three days early, though that might’ve had something to do with the fright I got from the horror movie marathon Benjen insisted on when he was staying with us.  Arya was three weeks early.  She was my shortest labour, actually – seemed to be breaking out into the world more than anything – and then there was Bran.  Bran was the opposite of Arya.  The doctors induced me when I made it twelve days past the due date, in the midst of a heatwave…….”

“And in the midst of Arya’s teething”, added Ned.  He seemed to think on it all fondly, but Jon’s nerves were starting to grow.  With every little step towards the birth date that Doc. Luwin had given them, Jon found it all getting more and more real. 

“What about Rickon?” Jon asked, his mouth starting to feel a little dry. 

Catelyn laughed loudly.  “Rickon was always going to be our last, but that pregnancy almost ended me, I remember.  I barely slept the last three months, he was five days late, and he spent his first month screaming.”

“I remember that”, Sansa said softly.  Jon watched her eyes shift slightly as a memory of some sort seemed to flash through it.  Perhaps in an attempt to move the conversation away from childbirth, Sansa asked about Robb.  “Do we have a date for this engagement dinner yet?”

Robb had told Jon and Sansa over a Wednesday night dinner that Ned and Catelyn had insisted upon a big, celebratory family dinner to mark his engagement to Jeyne.  When it quickly became clear how complicated it would be to get even all five Stark siblings in the same place at once, plans to extend the party to Ned and Catelyn’s families had been discarded before they’d even really begun.

Ned sighed.  “Rickon insists there is a music festival he cannot miss.  Bran says he has too much studying to do to make it home before their spring break.  Likely, it’ll be then.”

Robb, who had come alone to dinner on Wednesday as Jeyne was at a work function, had spoken a little of their wedding plans, and the almost daily e-mails Jeyne’s mother was sending both of them about everything from flowers to centrepieces to bridesmaid dresses.  Privately, Jon thought if he was going through what Robb was, his instinct would be to elope. 

Jon wondered what Sansa’s thoughts on weddings were. 

**********

On Saturday evening, Jon drove himself and Sansa over to Sam and Gilly’s.  It was Gilly’s birthday, and Sam had invited them both over for take-out.  A quiet celebration Jon was looking forward to just as much as he had the dinner following Robb and Jeyne’s engagement.  It struck him sometimes how easily he and Sansa had slipped into being a real couple. 

They were running a little late.  After Ned and Catelyn had left, they’d had a video call with Arya.  Gendry had gone to deal with a tow somewhere near Oldcastle and it was a rest week for the fencing club she attended.  They’d taken Sansa’s laptop into the nursery to show Arya what it looked like finished. 

While Arya had always been devoted to her family, and would defend them with her last breath, Jon had never seen her as someone interested in motherhood.  Unlike Sansa, she’d never played with dolls and treated them like her own children.  And yet, she had been so excited when she’d felt the baby move, and at the sight of the nursery. 

Before signing off, Arya had suggested visiting for a weekend after the baby was born, taking Friday off work and returning to White Harbour on Sunday.  Seeing the broad smile that had elicited on Sansa’s face, Jon had suggested Arya stay with them.  In their spare room. 

It had felt so good, calling it their spare room.  His things had all been moved down the hallway to the room which had formerly been Sansa’s.  It was now _theirs_.    

That thought made Jon smile as he grabbed the gift bag he’d all but thrown on the back seat when they were leaving the cottage. 

“I’m sure they won’t mind that we’re a bit late”, said Sansa.  She was wearing a beautiful black dress that came to rest at her knees, around the boots she’d chosen to wear.  When she’d come down the stairs to leave, Jon found himself looking forward to taking it off her when they got home. 

“They won’t”, Jon agreed.  He checked his watch.  Little Sam would still be up.  He felt a little guilty.  With the impending arrival of his own child, Jon worried he’d neglected his godson of late and vowed to address that. 

When Gilly answered the door, his godson came bounding up to Jon and Sansa, wrapping his arms around their legs in turn.  It had touched Jon to see him take to Sansa so quickly and so well.  “It’s mummy’s birthday”, he told them solemnly. 

“Yes, it is”, Sansa replied.  She smiled down at Sam.  “Did you get her something nice?”

Little Sam nodded.  “My daddy took me to pick.  We got chocolate for mummy.  Her favourite!”

He seemed so pleased with himself.  Jon lifted his godson up and gave him a high-five.  “And what did daddy get mummy?”

“I don’t know”, he said through childish giggles.  “Daddy got bubble bath for Aemon to give mummy.  Aemon isn’t big enough to pick a present yet.”

“No, not like you”, Jon agreed.  “You’re almost a grown-up, aren’t you?”

He set Little Sam back down on the ground and he ran off in the direction of the kitchen, presumably to let his father know the visitors had arrived.  Jon took the opportunity to hug Gilly and hand over the gift bag.  He and Sansa had debated, as she insisted he knew Gilly a lot better than he did, but they’d eventually decided on a scarf Margaery had designed, a collection of scented candles, and a gift voucher for a local day spa.

Jon had taken note of the name of the spa and promised himself he’d book Sansa in as a treat sometime after the baby was born, to give her a day of rest and relaxation.  When their little nugget was a few months old, and Sansa could stand to leave him or her for an entire day. 

“Come on through”, Gilly told them as she peaked in at the wrapped gifts.  “You honestly didn’t need to go to so much trouble.”

“Yes, we did”, Jon told her firmly. 

When they got through to the kitchen, Sam was serving his eldest son’s dinner.  Jon could see a variety of take-out menus sitting on the counter and realized they still had to decide where to order from.  He smiled at himself.  Yes, this was very much a typical night over at Sam and Gilly’s.  Jon squeezed Sansa’s hand at that thought.  And at the thought of the future nights they’d have over here together.


	25. Twenty-five - Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa goes for her final scan, before running into a familiar face.

On Monday afternoon, Sansa waited for Jon in the car park at school.  It had been three days since she’d been forced to concede that she was no longer able to fit behind the wheel of her small car.  Jon had come upon her squeezing into her seat and reminded her that she didn’t need to do this alone.  He’d driven her to work on Friday, told her he would pick her up, and promised this would continue until her maternity leave began.

Her pride and independent nature had wanted to argue with Jon and insist she would be reliant on no one, but her common sense had told Sansa he was right.  She didn’t need to do this alone.  She had Jon to help carry her burdens. 

It was the day of their final scan.  Her due date was in six weeks, her final day at work a week and a half away, and time seemed to Sansa to fly by as they counted down the days. 

Principal Seaworth passed while she waited.  “How are you?  Alright?  Are you in need of a lift?”

“I’m fine, thank you”, Sansa smiled.  Principal Seaworth was very much like a father figure to the faculty.  “I’m just waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up.”

Her smile grew at the thought of calling Jon her _boyfriend_.  If he’d been serious about them one day following in Robb and Jeyne’s footsteps, then there would come a time in the future when she could call him her _husband_.

“Not a problem.  And everything is alright for you?”

“Running like clockwork, touch wood.  How is Mrs. Seaworth?”  Sansa liked the friendly woman who always helped out at school events.

“Fine, fine.  Asked me to pass on her wishes next time I saw you.  I remember when we had our first, though it wasn’t yesterday.”  Sansa had met all seven of Principal Seaworth’s seven sons, and taught the youngest two, Steffon and Stannis.  Devan had graduated the previous summer, and was now studying Nautical Engineering in the Stormlands.

“Thank her for me.”  Sansa watched as the principal walked over to his car, calling on his sons to hurry up.  He waved as he drove out of the car park, leaving Sansa waiting – though not for long.

She smiled as Jon’s car pulled up next to her.  Before Sansa could open the door, he jumped out of his on the driver side and ran round to open it for her.

“You don’t need to”, Sansa told him.  Jon simply shrugged and made sure she was comfortable before going round the other side. 

“How was your day?”

“Good.  Though I did have a student ask me why I was assigning homework projects when I’m finishing at the end of next week”, she said wryly as Jon pulled out of the car park and onto the main road.  School had finished half an hour earlier and most students had already left. 

“Any excuse to get out of doing homework, right?” Jon chuckled.  “I’d be the same in their position.”

“I’ll be a bit later next Friday – my last day?  Brienne mentioned at the departmental meeting today that she wants to have a party of sorts for me after school.  It wouldn’t be for long.”  Sansa expected there would be some sort of cake.  She hoped for a lemon one. 

“No problem.  Just, uhm, just give me a call and let me know when you want picked up.  You’ll have a bit to take back home with you, won’t you?  Things from your desk?” 

“Not really”, Sansa shrugged.  “A box, maybe?  I have a few coffee mugs and a couple of my own books that I keep in the classroom for reference.  It’s not like I’m leaving.  Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize”, Jon assured her.  Sansa worried her tone had been a bit harsh.  But, she wasn’t leaving.  She would go back in a year.  Becoming a mother wasn’t going to prevent her from pursuing her vocation.  “I just meant that you’ll be away for a year and I don’t want anything to happen to things that are yours.  Or important to you.”

“I know.  Sorry.  I’m just a bit nervous about the scan, I think.”  They were stopped at a traffic light downtown, and Sansa took the opportunity to squeeze Jon’s hand.  Their discussion on whether or not to find out the baby’s gender hadn’t really come to a conclusion.  Sansa, desperate to know, had been conflicted about it.  Jon had said his mind was unchanged.  He wanted it to be a surprise. 

“It’ll be fine.  You’re used to the cold gel by now, aren’t you?  And we’ll get to see our little nugget on the monitor and hear the heartbeat.”

“Yeah, we will”, Sansa agreed. 

**********

When she got up on the bed in Doc. Luwin’s office, and lifted her top to allow the nurse to place the gel on her belly, Sansa decided she was just being silly for worrying about the appointment.  She wasn’t even sure what she was worried about, really, other than her indecision.  Perhaps it was that her pregnancy had gone so well thus far.  Perhaps it had allowed doubt to creep in; a sense that something would go wrong sooner or later. 

Because nothing had honestly gone better in Sansa’s life than the past few months.  Yes, there had been Robb’s stubborn insistence Jon had taken advantage of her, and the wondering if Jon felt the same way as she did.  But Sansa wouldn’t swap all of that for the world, because she now had Jon and their little nugget.  She had a growing family of her own and a home she loved – a home where they’d all live together for years to come. 

“Here we are, then”, said the nurse.  She spread out the gel and Sansa quickly saw her little nugget up on the monitor.  She gripped Jon’s hand tightly and felt him kiss the top of her head.  Sansa quickly noticed how much the baby had grown since her twenty week scan.  Their little nugget wasn’t as little now. 

Doc. Luwin seemed satisfied.  “Yes, everything seems to be progressing normally.  The baby’s heartbeat is strong and you are both in good health.  You’re at precisely the stage I would expect you to be six weeks out from your delivery date.  As I said earlier, the sporadic back pain is normal – as is the over-active bladder.”

Sansa had been mortified admitting to that, but Jon slept next to her and therefore was well aware she was up at the bathroom at least twice a night – and had been for at least the last week or so.  She simply nodded, and focused her attention on the monitor. 

“Have you had any false labour pains?” Doc. Luwin asked her.  Sansa shook her head. 

“No, not as yet.”  She hoped she wouldn’t have too many.  Sansa was mortified at the thought of dragging Jon to the hospital only to find she’d wasted everyone’s time.

“Ah well, they shall come in time.  And are perfectly normal.”

“How likely do you think it is that I’ll deliver on my due date?” Sansa asked.  She bit her lip, recalling what her mother had said the day the crib was delivered; recalling that neither she nor her siblings had arrived on time. 

“Well…..it is never an exact science, as much as those of us in the medical profession would like to claim it is”, he chuckled.  “That said, there is nothing to indicate a premature birth from the examination.  You must let me know if you have any concerns after today, but I think it likely there will not be anything until your labour begins.”

“Thank you.”  Sansa was relieved. 

“And now, at this final scan, we do offer parents the opportunity to discover the gender of their baby.  Have you decided to take up this opportunity?”  Doc. Luwin looked at the two of them expectantly.  Sansa hesitated – she wanted to know so badly – but, one look at Jon’s eyes told her it wasn’t the right thing to do. 

Having that ultimate surprise seemed to mean so much to Jon.  And, she _had_ said all those months ago that she agreed with him.  They’d waited so long now.  What was another few weeks?

“No”, she said decisively, smiling up at Jon.  “No, we don’t want to know.”

The emotion he displayed thereafter, the hug and gentle whispers of love, told Sansa that she’d made the right decision.  They would find out on the day.  Jon would get the ultimate surprise and Sansa found that made _her_ happier than the knowledge of their child’s gender would have.

“Two copies as usual?” the nurse asked them. 

“Yes”, replied Jon, as he squeezed her hand tightly.  “Yes, two copies please.  And thank you – not just for today, but for the other scans too.”

“I’m only doing my job”, the nurse insisted.  She handed two copies of a clear photograph to Sansa and Jon.  Sansa looked at her copy and studied their little nugget in detail.  This precious little human was part her and part Jon.  And Sansa couldn’t wait to meet him or her. 

The nurse gave Sansa some tissues to wipe her belly.  She removed the goo, slightly relieved this would be the last time she’d need to endure it.  It was just so squidgy and sticky.  Sansa pulled her top back down and accepted Jon’s help down from the bed. 

She walked (she refused to call her current gait anything approaching _waddling_ ) over to the chair at Doc. Luwin’s desk and sat down in the seat Jon had pulled out for her. 

Doc. Luwin smiled kindly.  “As I have said, everything appears to be progressing fine.  The Maternity Unit over at Wintertown General is aware of your due date and have a copy of your file.  Should you have any questions between now and the big day, please do not hesitate to let me know.”

“Thank you”, said Sansa.  “As Jon said, for _everything_.”

“Not at all, not at all.  I look forward to hearing of your child’s birth.”

**********

Sansa felt Jon’s comforting, protective, guiding hand at the small of her back as they walked out of the office.  She thought back to the first time they’d come here.  Sansa had arrived alone, having arranged to meet Jon here, and was terrified about the physical and emotional changes she was undergoing.  Today, she’d walked in with Jon, her hand firmly grasped in his. 

They were a unit, a team.  _Us_.

As they walked down the stairs to the street, where Jon’s car was parked, she felt him take her hand again and circle her palm soothingly.  It was strange for Sansa to think this was her final scan. 

The late afternoon sunshine had Sansa shading her eyes, but the breeze reminded her she was still most definitely in the North.  Jon wasn’t parked too far away.  When they were settled in their seats, he didn’t turn on the engine immediately, instead turning to Sansa. 

“What do you think about a small celebration?  To mark the final scan and the start of the home stretch?  We can toast our little nugget with soft drinks!”

Sansa laughed.  “Thank sounds great.  Where did you have in mind?  House of Black and White?  We haven’t been there in a while.  Or Gage’s?  Or that place out by the cinema, maybe?”

Sansa caught a nervous look on Jon’s face. 

“So, I sort of already booked us in somewhere”, he said sheepishly.  Sansa gave him a quizzical look.  “I, uh, I booked us a table at the Wintertown Grand. 

The Wintertown Grand was the most expensive and luxurious hotel in Wintertown.  It had only been a matter of weeks since Robb had proposed to Jeyne there.  It was where her parents always went for dinner to celebrate their anniversary. 

“Jon, you didn’t need to do that.”

“I wanted to”, he insisted.  “I want to spoil you and pamper you while I have the chance.  Before we’re up in the middle of the night with feeding and changing the baby.  You deserve it.”

“Thank you”, she said honestly.  Sansa felt her eyes glisten.  Everything Jon did made her feel like a princess from the stories she’d loved as a child.  For a woman whose last two relationships had only diminished her self-worth, it was refreshing and wonderful to have found someone who made her feel like she was everything to him simply by being herself.

**********

Sansa sat happily at their table at the Wintertown Grand.  They’d been given quite a good one.  Not a window table, but they were hardly next to the foyer or the kitchen door either.  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d come here for a meal – no, Marge had brought her on her last birthday, Sansa recalled.  A very, very boozy lunch with lots of giggling and cocktails, as well as Marge flirting shamelessly with the handsome young waiter.

Sansa remembered running into said waiter outside the bathroom a couple of mornings later.

She’d need to call Marge next week and invite her over for dinner.  Margaery was away at a fashion event in Oldtown and was extending her trip south to pay a visit to the Tyrell home in Highgarden. 

“This is amazing”, Sansa almost moaned as she tucked into the lemon chicken risotto she’d chosen.  The chicken was so succulent and the risotto neither too wet nor too dry.  It was perfect and if Sansa had tried to replicate it a hundred times, she never would have succeeded.

“Yeah.  The food in here is always great”, Jon agreed.  He’d chosen a rich venison stew that, though it gave off a delicious aroma, had Sansa wrinkling her nose at the thought of anyone eating Bambi.  “I hope you’re keeping space – I saw the dessert section of the menu.  You do love lemon cheesecake.”

Sansa laughed.  She’d seen the same thing and promised herself a slice regardless of how much the risotto filled her up.  Besides, as long as Sansa could make it to the car and then from the car to the house, she’d need to do little else.  Jon was there to help her. 

Jon set down his fork and looked at her thoughtfully.  “Sansa……why did you tell Doc. Luwin we didn’t want to know?  You said last night that you _did_ , and I said – “

"I suppose I could tell you that I’d already told you I was going backwards and forwards over it”, she interrupted, playing with her food as she stared down at it.  She looked back up at Jon.  “But, the truth is that I saw how much it meant to _you_.  And it meant more to _me_ that you have the moment you want.  The moment of surprise when our child is born and you find out if our little nugget is a boy or a girl.”

“Sansa”, he breathed.  Jon reached his hand across the table and squeezed hers.  “Never in my life have I ever had someone like you, what I have with you.  You have no idea how much that means to me.  Thank you.  And, I promise you, it will be worth it when we have that moment together.  Gods, will you listen to me!  I never used to be like this.”

“Sharing your feelings is perfectly normal, Jon”, Sansa told him.  She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes at him.  Robb could be exactly the same at times.  While neither of them were, thankfully, men who seemed to find a need to prove their manliness on a daily basis, Jon and Robb both held a lot of their feelings in. 

Jon was opening up, though.  He shared so much with her.  They were a real partnership; a real team. 

“What about names?” Jon asked.  “Do you want to make up a shortlist?  Or, I guess, two shortlists really.  Names we like.”

Sansa screwed up her nose.  “I don’t want to give my child some pre-determined name.  I think we’ll know what our little nugget’s name is when we meet him or her, don’t you?”

“I like the sound of that”, Jon grinned.  He took up his fork again.  “Though, hopefully we won’t end up spending the first week of our child’s life still calling him or her our little nugget.  When we leave the house, everyone will think we’ve named our child after a chicken dish.”

Sansa laughed, feeling relaxed.  She was sure they’d know the moment they met their child.  There was a name their child was meant to have; one that suited him or her perfectly.  And Sansa knew it would come to them on their child’s first day in the world. 

Jon’s phone buzzed and he frowned at it.  He checked the message, smiled, and then handed his phone over to Sansa.

_Jeyne has a girls night on Friday – drinks at Castle Black?  A last night out while you have the chance?  Robb_

“A last night out?” she repeated.  “You’re not a condemned man or anything!”

“Yeah, I know”, Jon agreed.  He seemed to find it as amusing as she did.  “I think I will go, though.  But, after Friday night, I won’t drink until after the baby’s born.  I want to be legal to drive you to the hospital whenever you need me to.  Whatever time of day or night.”

**********

Once Sansa had demolished her lemon cheesecake, Jon paid the bill and excused himself before they left.  Sansa pulled out her phone and scrolled through the text messages she’d received from various family members asking how the final scan had gone – including one from Rickon, who she’d spoken to over a video call at the weekend. 

Her youngest brother was looking forward to the music festival he planned to attend at the start of his break from college, and to coming home.  As wild as he could be at times, Sansa knew there was part of him that loved being spoiled rotten by everyone. 

It was both a perk and a pitfall of being the youngest, Sansa supposed. 

She readily replied to the text messages and agreed to bring the pictures over to her parents the following evening.  Sansa also mentally debated having a copy enlarged and framed for them, as she had done last time.  She’d get copies enlarged for herself and Jon in any case. 

Sansa also decided to ask her family to take as many pictures as they could at the hospital and in their first few weeks at home together, so Jon would have lots of them to put in the album she’d bought him at Christmas.  She chewed on a nail and wondered how much longer he would be. 

“Seven hells, Sansa?!”  She almost choked to hear those words, knowing who had spoken them before she raised her eyes to look at the smug grin she was sure would be plastered across his face. 

Of course.  “Harry.”

Sansa groaned internally.  Why did he have to show up here of all places?

“Long time, huh?”  Harry grinned at her in what she presumed he perceived to be a flirtatious manner.  Sansa found herself wondering – and not for the first time – how she ever ended up with Harry.  “I’m up here for a few days with work.  I’ve just been promoted, actually, to Senior Accounts Executive.  Got in at lunchtime and figured the company was paying for dinner, so why not eat in here?”

“Congratulations on your promotion”, Sansa told him hollowly.  She wondered who he’d slept with to get it.  Or who he’d conned.  That was Harry’s way of doing business.  Sansa fleetingly thought of the time Jon had spent on the application form for _his_ promotion, never mind the hours of interview prep. 

Harry leaned on the table, where Jon’s place had been, and winked.  “How do you fancy catching up while I’m here?  You can ditch Marge, and we’ll meet up later for cocktails.  What do you say, Sans?  For old time’s sake and all that.”

Sansa raised her eyebrow and tried not to show the total disgust she felt towards Harry.  Of course he would assume she was here with Margaery and not a date.  Added to that, the table was high and hid her large belly.  A small part of her was looking forward to seeing Harry’s reaction when he got a good view of _that_.

“I think not”, Sansa told him.  She fidgeted with her phone and wished Jon would come back. 

“Still so proper, aren’t you?  You don’t have to be……you can let yourself go with me, sweetheart.”

“Again, I think not”, Sansa repeated.  She thought of Jon calling her _sweetheart_ and how tender it sounded when he said the word.  Jon was the only man she ever wanted to hear call her his sweetheart for the rest of her life.  She’d never have had that with Harry.  The closest she’d have got was the mist that disguised his true self. 

Sansa felt a comforting hand squeeze her shoulder.  “Hey, sweetheart.  Sorry I took so long.  Are you ready to leave?”

“Very.  Let’s go home”, said Sansa.  She saw Harry’s eyes grow curious at the appearance of Jon – he clearly didn’t recognize him, though Sansa was sure they’d met more than once – and then bulge incredulously as Jon moved Sansa’s seat out and helped her to her feet.  Harry, for the first time since they’d met, had apparently been rendered speechless. 

“What – I – what?”

“This is Jon, my brother Robb’s best friend”, Sansa told him. 

“You’re going out with someone barely out of school?  Isn’t that unprofessional?”

Sansa rolled her eyes.  “ _Robb_ is my older brother, Harry.  _Rickon_ is the one not long out of school.  And we should be going home.”

“To the house where we live together”, added Jon, holding Sansa’s hand tightly.  She turned and saw the sweetest smile on Jon’s face, one that made her feel she was his entire universe. 

Before Harry could retort further, he was joined by a woman who instantly took his hand.  She was young and slender, so young that Sansa had to bite her lip to stop herself from calling Harry a hypocrite.  “Harry, honey, who are your friends?”

“Not friends”, said Sansa, feeling sorry for the girl.  Sansa hoped she’d see sense – and soon.  “Just passing acquaintances.  And, in any case, we were leaving.  Goodbye, Harry.”

Sansa walked away from him, Jon’s hand holding tightly onto her own, her head held far higher than it had been the day she’d found out Harry had cheated on her.  She and Jon passed through the reception area silently and didn’t speak until they were seated in his parked car, a little bit along the street.

“I am so, so grateful for us”, Sansa sighed.  “Seriously.  You make me happier than any man I’ve ever met, and any man I will ever meet.”

“Yeah, right back at you, Stark”, smiled Jon.  He turned his car key in the ignition.  “I have to say, I think Robb would have paid money to see the look on his face when he realized you were pregnant.  You remember those cartoons Robb and I used to watch?  The ones with animals that made holes in the sides of buildings trying to escape?”

“I do”, Sansa laughed. 

“That was what Harry reminded me of.”

“He asked if I wanted to get together for _old time’s sake_ ”, Sansa told him, screwing up her nose.  “He thought I was out for dinner with Marge.”

“Jeez, does the guy have no shame?”  Jon shook his head. 

“No, no he doesn’t”, said Sansa.  “I love you.  You and our little nugget.”

“Me too.”


	26. Twenty-six - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb takes Jon on a final guys night out before the baby is born.

 

“Gods, but that feels good”, Sansa sighed as Jon gave her a foot massage.  She’d been complaining about how swollen they were ever since they’d got back from school.  If someone had told fifteen year old Jon that giving Sansa Stark a foot massage would make him this happy, he would have thought them mad. 

And, yet, helping Sansa out with even the smallest part of her pregnancy made him happy. 

Jon smiled at the sight of Sansa, in her now usual spot in the corner of their sofa, with her legs across his.  “At least today is Friday.  You can put your feet up for the rest of the weekend.”

“True”, she agreed.  “When you go out, I’m going to curl up on the sofa under a blanket and watch Netflix.”

“Netflix and chill, right?” Jon grinned.  Sansa shot him a look.  “Yeah, yeah, I know what it means.  I don’t think it’ll be a late night.”

“The two of you might not be able to put away as much as you used to, but you can still have a few – our current situation is evidence of that, is it not?”

“Yeah.  Yeah, I suppose it is.”  Jon scratched his beard.  “Gods.  Sans.”

Sansa laughed, and Jon resumed his rubbing of her feet.  The start of their relationship may have been anything but conventional – but Jon had Sansa now, and soon the two of them and their child would be a family. 

“I’ll get you all set up before I head out”, said Jon.  He’d picked up some lemon cakes at the bakery along from his office for Sansa.  Jon predicted that around five minutes after he left, Sansa would select some soppy film or other from their Netflix queue and spend the night amid tissues and those lemon cakes. 

“When are you meeting Robb?”

“Around seven thirty at Castle Black.”  He tickled the underside of Sansa’s feet and had her giggling away.  “I know it’d be early, but I’ll have my phone with me if you need anything.  If the baby decides he or she really needs to be born this weekend.”

Sansa laughed again at that.  “Uh, no.  That will not be happening.  This baby is not going to be _that_ early.  I still have a week left at school.  Our little nugget understands that.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. Really.”  Sansa seemed pretty determined, but Jon knew that in the end she’d have little say in the matter.  He scooted over on the sofa and kissed her softly. 

“I’m going to run upstairs and take a shower before I go and meet Robb”, he told her.  Sansa grinned at him. 

“I would love to join you, but that would involve moving.”  Over the last couple of weeks, her belly had grown further and her ankles had become swollen.  She’d reached what she described as _the uncomfortable stage_. 

“Sansa, sweetheart, if you joined me, then I wouldn’t make it to Castle Black for seven thirty.  At least, not seven thirty this evening.”

“No, you probably wouldn’t”, she conceded.  The two of them had spent hours pleasuring each other in that shower over the last few weeks.  Jon couldn’t wait until the next time. 

“I need to get a move on”, Jon sighed.  He kissed Sansa once more, and then ran upstairs, calling ahead to book a cab before jumping in the shower. 

**********

When Jon made it to Castle Black, admittedly ten minutes later than arranged thanks to the cab driver failing to arrive on time, he saw that he clearly had some catching up to do with Robb.  He sat at a table in the corner, typing away on his phone, with two beers and two shots of whiskey set out for each of them. 

“Hey”, Robb grinned up at Jon as he took off his jacket and went to sit down.  “Happy Friday!  They had a special offer for happy hour.  You don’t mind?”

“No.  No, that’s fine”, Jon shrugged.  He downed the first shot of whiskey and felt a burn at the back of his throat.  Jon hadn’t drunk it in months.  “Wow.  That has a kick to it.”

“It’s a new brand.  Skagosi.  Rickon recommended it.  Gods, when did I get old enough that my baby brother could give me whiskey recommendations?!”

“Yeah, it’s crept up on us a bit.  But, like we’ve been saying over the last few months, we’re grown-ups now.  We’re not students anymore.  I have a mortgage, Sansa and I are living together, and I’m going to be a father in a few weeks.  You and Jeyne are at the buying a place stage.  You’re engaged.  I think we have to face the fact that we aren’t twenty-one any longer.”  At the thought of that, Jon downed the second glass of whiskey.  It still had a bit of a kick to it, but it didn’t burn as much as the first.

Jon took a quick sip of his bottle of beer in an attempt to cool down his mouth. 

“It was bad enough when I realized I couldn’t drink Arya under the table”, Robb grumbled.  Jon laughed at the hazy memory of a night out to celebrate Gendry’s birthday.  Robb had vomited all over the bathroom floor at Shadow Tower and they hadn’t been allowed to go back.  Or, rather, Robb had insisted afterwards he’d been too badly humiliated to ever set foot in the bar again. 

“Her size is deceptive”, Jon agreed.  In truth, Arya could probably drink all of them under the table.  “She’s coming to stay with us for the weekend.  I don’t know exactly when.  Sometime after the baby’s born.  Arya seems pretty excited about the whole thing.  Even if she does find us a bit too conventional now.”

Robb laughed at that and took a swig of his beer.  “Arya’s never done what was expected of her.  When I think of the e-mails Jeyne’s mother is bombarding both of us with daily, Arya would never put up with our mother doing that.”

“No.  Sansa and I were talking the last time they were both up – Arya isn’t the type to let Sansa or your mother help her plan a wedding.  She and Gendry will just turn up one scheduled visit and causally slip into conversation that they got married a month ago”, said Jon. 

“Yeah, that sounds like something Arya would do.  They’re up in two weeks for this engagement dinner my folks are insisting on.  Oh, Jeyne and I have booked a holiday.  Nothing fancy.  A week at some sunshine resort in Dorne.”

“Sounds good.”  Jon had vague ideas of a trip with Sansa and the baby in the autumn, but figured their chances of a week away by themselves was years off.  Maybe he should’ve taken her on one of those babymoon things he kept reading about in the papers. 

It was a bit late for that now.  Sansa was too far into her pregnancy to fly.  And, if Jon was honest, he didn’t much like the idea of planes. 

Jon downed the remainder of his first bottle of beer and asked Robb how things were going at Flint, Norrey and Wull. 

“Not too bad”, Robb shrugged.  “I’ve just started working on a new case.  A criminal one, actually.  Drugs bust.  I doubt our defendant – whose street name, by the way, is _Coldhands_ – is much more than a courier.  Norrey wants to try and cut him a deal.  How about you?  You settling into the new job?”

“What kind of creepy name is Coldhands?” Jon wondered aloud.  “But, yeah, everything is good with me.  I had a meeting with Mr. Targaryen yesterday and we have another with Mormont next week – I suggested getting some interns over the summer.  Law students who can get experience working pro-bono cases”, said Jon.  He’d also raised the suggestion of holding regular drop-in sessions at the local homeless and welfare centre. 

“Only thing is you’d most likely be the one babysitting them”, Robb pointed out. 

Jon shrugged.  He didn’t mind that too much and told Robb so.  “You want some more drinks?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Jon went up to the bar, found the happy hour actually lasted for double that time, and ordered the same double doubles as Robb had.  He reasoned with himself that this would be his last night out before the baby was born.  Well, his last night out drinking.  There was Robb’s engagement dinner to look forward to and Sam and Gilly had invited them over for dinner on Wednesday.

Walking back to the table, Jon felt himself justified in letting go a little tonight.  And, Sansa had insisted she didn’t think the baby was arriving this weekend. 

“Here we are”, he said, placing the glasses on the table between himself and Robb.  “The offer’s still good.”

Jon looked around and saw the bar was starting to get busier.  He and Robb seemed to have arrived between the post-work and night-out crowds.  Castle Black could be a bit strange like that at times.  One night Jon would come and it was all he could do to get a seat, and at others it felt like there was only a handful of other patrons in the place. 

“Sansa tell you who we ran into on Monday night?”

“No.”  Robb looked curious.

“Harry.  I took her to the Wintertown Grand for dinner after the scan.  He cornered her when I went to the bathroom.  You should’ve seen the look on his face when she stood up and he realized she was pregnant.  She told me he’d asked her if she wanted to get together for old time’s sake.”  Jon screwed his face up at the memory.  He trusted Sansa implicitly and he knew she’d never, ever cheat on him. 

Jon trusted Sansa with his life and that of their child. 

“Scum”, muttered Robb.  He downed his two shots of whiskey in quick succession and then muttered something about hoping karma was real, because if so then Harry had a boatload heading his way. 

Jon took a large gulp of beer and searched his mind for a topic Robb wouldn’t find so controversial.  “Have you seen the new Star Trek reboot yet?”

“Not yet.  I’m saving it for the next time Jeyne is away with work.  Did you see the football match last night?” Robb asked.  Jon shook his head.  He and Sansa had been otherwise engaged at the time, but he wasn’t about to admit _that_ to her brother – even if Robb’s attitude was the antithesis of what it had been before.  Jon doubted _sorry, but I was a bit occupied giving your sister oral and having her scream my name is preferable to watching TV_ was something Robb was keen to hear. 

“Amazing – WHM were fantastic.  Scored a last minute winner against SES.” 

“Not really a fan of either of those teams”, Jon admitted.  Though he felt more of a closeness to the White Harbour Mermen than the Storm’s End Stags.  He’d always cheer on one of the teams from the North.  “And I don’t think there’s much point getting into the new season.  I won’t have time to watch much of it.”

Jon downed the first of his two shots of whiskey.  In truth, he wasn’t too bothered – his child would always command his attention over some sporting event or other. 

“Is it next Friday Sansa finishes work?” Robb asked. 

Jon nodded.  “Yeah.  I got a text from Brienne the other week inviting me to a departmental party they’ve got for Sansa on her last day.  I think a few of the other teachers are coming along, and Principal Seaworth is making an appearance, but Sansa doesn’t have an idea of the scale of it.  She doesn’t know I’m going.”

“I can’t believe she’s finishing already.  You guys have around five weeks to go?”

“Yep.  And that’s if the baby’s on time.  Your mother says none of you were.  Sansa’s determined the baby won’t be early.  In any case, this is my last night drinking before the baby.  I need to be able to drive her to hospital when the time comes.”

“Well then, let’s make the most of it tonight”, Robb grinned.  

**********

In spite of Jon’s insistence to Sansa that it would be a short night and that neither he nor Robb could drink as much as they had in the past, it was closing time before they left Castle Black.  They’d both brought up calling a cab at various points during the night, but neither of them had done anything about it in the end.  Jon found himself very merry as he stumbled along the road to Cley’s chippy. 

Jon smothered his chips in salt and vinegar while Robb called them both a cab. 

“We can share, right?” slurred Robb.  Jon gave his best friend a lopsided smile and held out his soggy wrappings to Robb, who giggled.  “No, not chips.  I have chips.  We can share a _cab_.”

“Yes!” Jon agreed enthusiastically.  “You can come back to the house for a couple of beers.  Sansa will be there.  She won’t mind.  You’re her brother.  She has to like you.  We have bacon there.  I want to eat a bacon sandwich.”

“Bacon sandwish”, Robb muttered. 

“Sandwich.  _Sanswich_.  Sandwich.”  Jon was confused.  “It’s a hard word to say, Robb.”

Jon picked away at his chips and the two of them went to stand outside and await their cab.  This took him back to their student days when he and Robb had done this on a weekly basis.  They’d go to the Wolf’s Den in White Harbour and stop off for chips on the way back to their dorms, or later, their rented apartment. 

“There it is!”  Robb excitedly waved his arms as he hailed a cab, spilling chips on the ground, soon realizing what he had done.  “Aw, shit!”

“Have some of mine”, Jon offered as they let themselves into the cab.  Jon gave the driver his address and thought it might be an idea to text Sansa and let her know he was on his way home.  She might be _concerned_.  She might be _waiting up for him_.

That thought had Jon slightly regretting that he’d invited Robb back for a couple of beers.  Gods, Sansa was beautiful.  Jon felt the need to text that to her. 

_Sansa, I am in a cab.  I love you, Sans.  You are beautiful.  Your hair is pretty.  And your eyes.  Can I go down on you again tonight?  I love doing that.  You taste better than anything.  Even lemon cakes.  I love you.  Jon._

Proud of himself for managing to avoid typos, Jon sent the message.  He spent the rest of the cab ride listening to Robb rambling on and on about football to the driver.  Jon couldn’t understand much of what Robb was saying, but he seemed to be very sure about it. 

**********

“Here we are”, the driver told them soon.  Jon opened the eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed and grinned at the sight of Sansa standing in the doorway in her silvery robe.  It lay loose over her belly.  Jon thought it made her look like an angel, and told Robb so. 

Robb turned his nose up at Jon.  “That’s my sister.”

Jon stepped out of the cab and called her name.  “Sansa!!  Sansa, you’re so pretty!  You look like an angel, Sansa.”  He hoped she didn’t notice the slight stumble when he walked up the pathway. 

As soon as he reached Sansa, Jon leaned in to kiss her.  He was soft and gentle at first and then went for it, probing her lips with his tongue and desperately seeking entry.  Fuck, he wanted her right now.  Jon lifted his hand and ran it through Sansa’s soft, silky hair. 

“Ouch!” Jon whined.  Sansa had batted his hand away and turned to greet Robb.  Shit, yeah, it probably wasn’t a good idea to kiss Sansa like that while her brother was around. 

“Come inside, the pair of you”, said Sansa.  She ushered the pair of them inside.  When Jon passed her, he heard her sniff him and saw her nose turn up.  “Gods, how much did the pair of you have to drink?”

“We drank lots of drink”, Robb told Sansa matter-of-factly.  “Hello, sister!  Jon says you have beer.”

Jon looked at her sheepishly.  Now he was home with Sansa, all he wanted to do was go to bed. 

“We do have beer somewhere, but water is all the two of you are getting.  Robb, you better stay here, it’ll be safer.  I’ll text Jeyne.  You can sleep in the guest room.”

“We don’t have a guest room”, Robb told them.  “We have a bedroom and a room where my Playstation and X-Box live.  I call it the game room.”

Jon started to ignore Robb and focused instead on Sansa.  He grabbed onto her hand and held it tightly.  He could tell by the side-smile she was giving him that Sansa wasn’t truly mad at him.  She shushed him, squeezing his hand, and instructed him to go and fetch two glasses of water. 

He went through to the kitchen and did as Sansa asked.  Jon noted dimly that the room was tidy – clearly Sansa had binned the box the pizza he’d ordered for her had come in.  He hadn’t wanted her to have the bother of cooking herself dinner. 

When Jon came back through to the hallway, Sansa was standing at the top of the stairs and Robb seemed to have vanished.  He walked up to her, knowing he was grinning at Sansa like an idiot.  Jon remembered their first night together and wanted to repeat what he could recall.  He wanted to kiss and lick every inch of her until she went hoarse from screaming his name. 

“We’ll see”, Sansa told him with a wink.  Jon realized he must have said at least some of that aloud. 

Sansa took one of the glasses off him and wandered along the hallway with it.  She must have set Robb up in the guest room while he was in the kitchen.  Jon watched her sash and sway as she walked away from him.  He preferred Sansa to be walking towards him, but maybe he liked to watch her walk away too. 

Gods, he loved her so, so much. 

And then, she was walking back towards him.  “Come on.  Time for bed.”

“Yeah, time for bed”, Jon growled.  He slammed the bedroom door closed behind them and pulled Sansa into a searing kiss.  “Fuck, I want you.  I want to taste you over and over and over again.  And then I want to make you come with my fingers.”

“Clothes off”, Sansa instructed.  She had that stern look on her face, the one Jon often thought of as her teacher face.  He had some ideas for that.  He wanted to explore it a little and have her punish him for being naughty. 

Sansa pulled his t-shirt over his head and helped him off with his shoes and jeans.  Jon pressed his mouth to her neck and kissed a line down the valley of her soft, milky breasts.  He found the light dusting of freckles there and mapped them out with his tongue. 

“On the bed”, Sansa grinned. 

Jon smiled back up at her and lay his head down on the top of the duvet. 

**********

The following morning, Jon woke up with the horrible feeling that the Northern Army of old had set up camp in his head and begun drumming a beat for the soldiers to march to.  There was a pounding behind his eyes and his tongue felt furry.  He opened an eye, and saw Sansa sat up in bed reading a book that rested on her belly.  She set it down and grinned at him. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Shit”, Jon rasped honestly.  He opened his other eye and ran a hand through his hair.  “What the fuck, Sans?”

She giggled at him.  “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Getting in the cab with Robb, I think.”  Jon allowed his mind to clear a little.  “No, I think I remember being back here.  We were – I kissed you, and then I – “

“You told me several times what you wanted to do with me – all of which you can do tonight, by the way – then you promptly passed out the moment you got on the bed.  Which, to be honest, was actually what I was going for.  You were drunk and you needed your sleep.  The water you didn’t drink last night is by your bed, along with a fresh bottle from the fridge, and I put out painkillers for you.”

“You’re perfect”, Jon murmured. 

Sansa smiled softly at him.  “I try my best.  I understand I look a bit like an angel.”

“I said that aloud.”

“That and several other things.  Oh, and would you like to see the text message you sent me?”  Sansa was smiling broadly, so Jon knew he couldn’t have upset her. 

“Do I want to?” Jon asked warily.  She handed over her phone and Jon read what he’d written.  

_Sansa, I am in a cab.  I love you, Sans.  You are beautiful.  Your hair is pretty.  And your eyes.  Can I go down on you again tonight?  I love doing that.  You taste better than anything.  Even lemon cakes.  I love you.  Jon._

“Oh, gods”, he moaned.  “I’m impressed I managed to spell it all correctly after Robb and I drank our own weight in alcohol last night.  I’m sorry.  I’m supposed to be the one looking after you.”

“I think I can manage to look after you today.  Well, you and Robb.  When you feel up to it, you can jump in the shower and I’ll make the three of us something to eat.”  Her smile had grown even wider and Jon was perplexed.  He asked her why.  “Because this is what you and Robb used to do together.  It means a lot to me after the way things were that you’ve found a way back to that place.”

“Me too”, Jon told her.  He ignored the heave he felt in his stomach and moved gently up the bed to wrap an arm around Sansa.  “Like I said to Robb, and to you before, last night was my big pre-baby blow-out.  Responsible dad time from now until our little nugget is born.”

He felt Sansa move in closer to him and draw soothing circles on his side.  She was right.  How was she always right?  The headache and stomach ache and everything else was worth it to feel he and Robb had somehow navigated their way through the awkwardness they’d felt earlier in Sansa’s pregnancy.  Five weeks to go.  Only five weeks to go.  Jon couldn’t quite believe it.

Jon kissed Sansa on the cheek.  “Okay, no more of that until you’ve at least brushed your teeth.”

“Fine”, Jon agreed.  He was prevented from saying anything further when there was a knock on the door. 

“Sans?  Sans, are you awake?”  Robb sounded as rough as he felt. 

“Yeah.  Come in, Robb.”  Jon thought he wouldn’t, but was surprised to see the door open slightly to reveal an awkward and hungover looking Robb. 

“Yeah, you look like I feel”, Jon told him, wanting to break the ice.  “Sansa’s going to do us a fry up.  You can have a shower if you want.  I can lend you some clean clothes to go home in.”

Robb looked at him gratefully and nodded.  “I called Jeyne.  Sans, she said you texted her last night to say I was staying here?  I don’t remember much after we got chips.  I think most of mine ended up on the ground.”

“They did, so you ate mine instead.  Come on, I’ll get you sorted with a change of clothes.”  Jon kissed Sansa gently and then slowly allowed himself to get to his feet.  One thing was for sure, this wasn’t just his last pre-baby blow-out.  It was his last big blow-out period. 

And Jon actually found he was alright about it. 

He didn’t need to recapture his youth and reminisce about his days as a student because what he had now, what he would have very soon, was so much more amazing than that.


	27. Twenty-seven - Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa finishes work and begins her maternity leave.

Sansa felt a hint of sadness as she walked into her classroom on Friday morning.  As much as she could not wait to meet her child, she knew she’d miss this too.  She would miss coming to work every day and meeting her students.  She would miss the eager debates that took place in her classroom and engaging with her co-workers and exchanging ideas. 

She made sure the projector was set up correctly for the documentary she wanted to show her first class, on the abolition of the slave trade in Essos and walked – waddled, if she was being brutally honest with herself – to the front of the room and her desk.  Sansa looked at the large box which lay on the floor and thought about the free period she had early that afternoon, when she’d need to fill it. 

It would be strange to think of her classes going on without her on Monday.  But Edda Tallhart would be back to help out the department, and Brienne would get a supply teacher, or someone on a temporary contract, to fill her place for the forthcoming twelve months.  Sansa supposed that getting ready for the birth, and then looking after a small child, would consume her time and attention. 

Four weeks to go.  Four weeks and she would be a _mother_.  It was hard to fathom sometimes.  Twelve months ago, she and Jon hadn’t even been together. 

Sansa found it difficult to even recall what her life had been twelve months ago.  Work and yoga and living, shopping and laughing with Marge.  There had been no man on the horizon and she’d been alright with that.  It was so strange, then, to be only twelve months on from that Sansa and to be where she was now.

She and Jon may not have done things in the right order – after all, she’d fallen pregnant, moved in with Jon and _then_ they’d got together – but Sansa had pretty much everything she’d ever wanted.  And in some ways that scared her a little.  It meant she had so much to lose.

Pushing that scary thought from her mind, Sansa called for the person knocking on her door to come in.  She smiled to see Brienne wandering in. 

“You ready for your last day?”

Sansa nodded.  “I think so.  Strange.  But, it’ll just be my last day for a while.  I’ll be back in twelve months.”

“Of course.  Now, I have everything arranged for three-thirty – thankfully I have a free period at the end of the day – so just come along to my classroom when you’re ready.”

“Nothing big and gaudy”, said Sansa.  She wasn’t sure her nerves would be able to stand it.

“Nothing big and gaudy, though that’s hardly my style in any case”, Brienne reminded her.

“True”, Sansa conceded.  She played with a stray strip of wood that was coming away from the desk.  “A funny thing, life, isn’t it?”

“If you’re lucky.  And you are.  Now, I best leave you to enjoy your last day.  I’ve got to run out at lunchtime, but I’ll see you at three thirty.”

Sansa smiled happily.  “See you then.”

As she set up her computer and printed off handouts on the War of the Ninepenny Kings for her third period class, Sansa found it a bit strange thinking of this as her last day.  It may be a Friday, but it wasn’t the end of term or the end of the school year. 

She felt a jolt in her belly as the baby kicked out and gently ran her fingers over the spot.  Only a few weeks now, and they would get to meet properly. 

**********

A strange sense of finality, almost, ran through Sansa as she ushered her last class of the day out of the room.  It was one of her favourite classes, a small one filled with enthusiastic older students who had taken the subject as an elective, and they’d presented her with a card and flowers.  Sansa had – thankfully with success – worked hard to ensure the tears she felt building up didn’t actually fall. 

She put the last few things, a couple of books and some of her own personal stationary, into the box she’d added to periodically throughout the day, and closed down her computer.  The box could be left here.  Jon was coming to pick her up when she called to beg his rescue and he would be able to carry it out to the car for her. 

Sansa wondered how it would feel come Monday morning, when Jon went off to work and she was left at home alone.  She supposed there was much she could accomplish, but then Jon had already done everything they needed to get the nursery ready.  All that was left to do was pack her hospital bag and actually give birth.  Maybe she could take a cab to meet Jon for lunch one day.  Surprise him.  She could take a picnic or book a table somewhere near his office. 

Everything boxed up, Sansa grabbed her bag and began the short walk to Brienne’s classroom.  She hoped again that this would be something simple.  Sansa didn’t think she was up for anything more than that.  Her feet and ankles were swollen and her skin itched.  She felt too big for everything and wondered at how Jon could possibly still find her attractive. 

Walking along the corridor, Sansa’s mind drifted back to Saturday night and Jon making good on all the filthy words he’d uttered to her in his drunken state the night before.  As promised, Jon had kissed and licked just about every inch of her – even the silvery lines where her belly had stretched and expanded – and he’d made her come with his mouth, his fingers and his cock. 

Sansa was very much looking forward to being able to do these things with Jon after the baby was born and she’d returned to her normal size.  They’d only ever been together the once with her like that, the night they’d conceived their little nugget. 

She placed a hand atop her belly at the thought of their little one and opened the door to Brienne’s classroom. 

Sansa gasped in surprise to see not only Brienne and the other two members of the department, Hyle and Podrick, but also Edda Tallhart, a number of other teachers, and – in the midst of a discussion with Principal Seaworth – _Jon_.  Her feet made their way over to him like they were a compass pointing north and home.  Sansa hugged Jon tightly.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here”, she whispered. 

“Brienne invited me as a surprise”, he replied, keeping his voice low so only they could hear. 

“I’m glad.”  Sansa pulled herself away from Jon and beamed at Brienne.  Looking around the classroom, she could see a single _Congratulations_ banner and two sets of twin balloons decorating the walls, one blue and one pink.   It was low-key and respectful, but intended to give her a nice surprise.  It was clear to Sansa at once that Brienne had done all the hard work for this herself. 

She would miss her friend and mentor and hoped Brienne would come and see her, Jon and the baby regularly.

Sansa took Jon’s hand in her own and felt him squeeze.  She addressed Brienne.  “Thank you.  For all of this.”

“A small token to show how much we care and how much we will miss you”, Brienne told her simply.  “Before we get started on the small buffet I managed to cobble together during lunch break, I just want to pass on once again my hearty congratulations to Sansa – and to her partner, Jon.  You have both been given a wonderful gift to cherish.  Sansa, we will miss you every day for the next year.  As will your students.  But, we know you have another, more important job to worry about.”

“Thank you”, Sansa mouthed as everyone clapped.  Brienne gave a gentle nod and then turned to Principal Seaworth.

“Far be it for me to stand between hungry teachers and their food”, he jested.  “I can only add my congratulations to Brienne’s and wish you, Sansa, and your young man here well.  As a father of seven – yes, young man, seven – it isn’t any wonder my hair is as grey as it is.  In the next twelve months, your class of up to thirty will shrink to a class of one.  But, in the end, it is that class that’ll matter to you the most.  And that is as it should be.  We hope you will keep in touch with us and look forward to welcoming you back when you are ready to return.”

“Uhm, thank you”, said Sansa in a small voice.  She looked around the room and realized she was expected to say something.  “Thank you all for coming and for your kind words.  This next year promises to be an adventure and a rollercoaster for me, and for Jon.  So, yes, I will miss you all.  I will miss this.  But at the same time, I’ll relish the time I get to spend with the baby.  Precious time.  Very, very precious.  And now, I must stop talking.  Because I have spotted lemon cake!”

Sansa got a laugh at that, and then felt Jon pull her into his side.  “You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in my life, do you know that?”

“I should hope I am, given I’m having your child”, Sansa replied, grinning.  She jerked her head in the direction of the table of food.  “Come on.  Let’s go and get some lemon cake!”

**********

It was close to five before Sansa managed to extricate herself from the almost festive atmosphere Brienne had created in her classroom.  Between gifts and hugs and words of congratulations and the extraction of promises to visit and food, so much food, Sansa found it hard to pull herself and Jon away earlier.  She muttered a quick apology to him as they made their first trip to the car, with the gifts they’d been given. 

“It’s alright”, Jon laughed.  “I didn’t think we’d be finished any earlier than this.  Not when Brienne told me how many people would be there.”

Jon unlocked the car and packed the gifts in the back seat. 

“This is going to be one very spoiled child”, said Sansa.  But, then, in some ways all five Starks had been spoiled.  As long as there was discipline to go along with it then their little nugget would work out fine. 

“Yeah, as I’ve said before, I have a feeling I’ll find it difficult to say _no_ to anything our child wants”, Jon replied.  He scratched his beard and took her hand.  They turned and began to walk back towards Sansa’s classroom.  She still thought of it as her own though another teacher – or, rather, other teachers plural – would occupy it for the next twelve months. 

Sansa pointed at the box Jon needed to take to the car.  “There it is.” 

She rolled her eyes at the sight of Jon lifting the heavy box as if it weighed nothing, and glanced around the room.  This had been her first classroom in her first teaching job.  It would be hers again, Sansa promised herself.  Somehow, they would make it work a year from now. 

“Hey”, said Jon softly.  She felt him beside her and inhaled his scent.  Sansa had never found a smell so comforting and so intoxicating all at the same time.  “You ready.”

She took a deep breath in and turned out the lights.  “I am now.”

**********

On Saturday afternoon, it still seemed a little unbelievable to Sansa that her maternity leave had begun.  It was a relief as well as a delight to her to have a visit from Margaery.  Her friend hadn’t been able to come and visit since her return from Highgarden.  Work had taken over as Marge had a prestigious order placed by the wives of Volantene leaders in preparation for a charity ball.

Sansa was sitting on the sofa, sipping a fruit tea when Marge appeared at the door.  Jon answered it for her and got them both sorted with drinks, biscuits and cakes before heading out. 

“Text me if you think of anything to add to the shopping list after I’ve gone”, he said.  Jon kissed the top of her head and left them to it. 

Marge sighed.  “I wish I had someone to run around after me the way Jon does for you.”

“I don’t know that he does”, Sansa protested feebly.  “No, yes, you’re right.  He _does_ run around after me.  I’m not sure how I managed to be this lucky, Marge.”

“You finally got what you deserve, darling”, Marge assured her.  “Only good things.”

Sansa nibbled away at another slice of the lemon cake left over from the school party.  Brienne had insisted Jon and Sansa take the remnants home with them. 

“Oh, before I forget…….I come bearing gifts.”  Marge had a glint in her eye as she handed over the large bag she’d brought with her.  Sansa had assumed her friend had a party to go to later.  Her smart dress and jacket had suggested that could be the case.

“Gifts?  For me?”

“For both of you”, Marge clarified.  “You, and the baby.”

“Oh.”  Sansa hugged Marge and then opened the bag.  She pulled out several small outfits Sansa could immediately tell were designer.  The quality of the stitching and design spoke to that.  Then there was a number of outfits for Sansa herself, once she’d regained her shape, and spa products to treat herself with both before and after the birth. 

“Even when you’re covered in vomit, you deserve luxury to look forward to”, Marge grinned. 

“Thank you!” Sansa exclaimed. 

Her phone rang next to her and Sansa furrowed her brow.  She picked it up and saw that Robb was calling.  “Hello?”

“Hey, Sans.  How are you?” he asked. 

“Good.  Just hanging with Marge.  You?”

“Jeyne and I were out for lunch.  We’re going to see an apartment this afternoon”, he replied.  “It’s actually round the corner from where Jon and I used to live.”

Sansa bit on the corner of a nail.  “Is it promising?”  She and Jon had picked out the second place they’d gone to see, but she knew not everyone was as lucky as they had been.”

“I guess.  It’s in the area we’re looking at and the size we’re looking at.”  Sansa visualized Robb’s shrug at that.

“I just wanted to let you know that mum and dad booked Citadel for next Saturday.  For the engagement dinner?  Are you going to be alright for it?  You and Jon, you’ll be able to make it?”

Sansa rolled her eyes.  “I’m pregnant, Robb, not an invalid.  We’ll be there.”  She neglected to add that Jon would be driving because that was now beyond her capabilities. 

“Cool.  Well, Jeyne and I will see you tomorrow, then.  Unless there’s anything else?  Do you need anything?”

Sansa smiled at that.  Her big brother might be a dork at times, but he was still her big brother.  “No, I’m fine.  Marge is here.”

“Oh.  Well, then. I’ll let you go and see you tomorrow.  Bye, Sans.”

“Bye.”  Sansa closed the call and turned to Margaery.

“I’d like to see cloning become a thing”, said Marge thoughtfully.  She picked at some of the crackers Jon had laid out for the two of them. 

“Cloning?” 

“Mmm.  Either Jon or your brother.  Jon runs around and does food shopping for his girl.  Sansa, I know how good you’ve had it over the last few months.  That man is good in the sack and that is something we should _celebrate_ ….”

Sansa felt herself turn beetroot at that.  She’d never actually spoken to Margaery about how good Jon was in bed.  She’d never told her friend – really, she’d never told _anyone_ – just how much he’d pleasured her.  She’d never told anyone precisely what Jon’s tongue was capable of. 

She found herself distracted by thoughts of what he’d done to her.  Of his mouth on her cunt.  Of his teeth on her arse.  Of his tongue swirling around her belly button.  Jon had done everything she’d ever wanted of a man.  And Sansa knew she’d never willingly give him up. 

“…..and your brother is hot.  I know you probably don’t want to hear that – “  Sansa didn’t – “but he is.  And I could live with the flaws of a man as attractive as that if he was as good in bed as your Jon is.”

“Robb is engaged and Jon as good as”, said Sansa.  She wished Marge could find someone as right for her as Jon was for Sansa, and Robb for Jeyne.  “There’s someone out there for you.  I know there is.”

“Of course there is”, Marge agreed.  “And the fun part of things is trying to find him.”

**********

“Do you have Gilly’s list there?” Jon asked when he walked into the nursery, holding the large travel bag they’d picked out.  Sansa held up the piece of paper.  Gilly had given them the list the last time they’d been over for dinner. 

She had been so helpful to them with her list of nursery essentials, and they’d become quite close over the last few months,  that Sansa had felt confident enough to ask for her advice on what to pack in her hospital bag. 

It was Sunday afternoon after a long, filling dinner at her parents’ house, and Sansa had thought this a good time to get her bag ready.  Having finished work and reached the four week countdown to her due date, it really felt as if she’d entered the home stretch of a marathon.  She needed to be prepared. 

While Brienne had made a good point about not wanting Sansa to go into labour in the middle of a class, she knew the next four weeks would be about ensuring she was ready for the big day – whenever it might come.

“I can’t believe we’re starting to do these last minute things”, Sansa sighed.  It felt a little overwhelming, the idea of actually giving birth, now that it was near.  She had always wanted to be a mother, had played with her dolls constantly as a child, but the reality was very different.  As a child she’d never contemplated the back pain, swollen ankles and stretched skin that currently plagued her, for starters. 

“Yeah, time’s gone by pretty quickly”, Jon agreed.  He set the bag down atop the chest of drawers, now filled with the clothes their little nugget had been gifted, and reached out to grab her hand.  Sansa felt him squeeze it and moved forward to lean into his touch. 

She could feel tears nearing the surface and suppressed them.  This was a happy moment, not one for her nerves to get in the way.  Jon pulled her in close and shushed her.  “Hey.  Hey, it’s all going to be alright.”

Sansa snorted.  How could he know that?  He wasn’t the person having to push another human being out of them! 

“I know”, she responded softly.  Sansa pulled back and wiped her eyes quickly.  “We should get started.  Especially since I look – how did Rickon put it?”

“ _Ready to pop_ , I think was his phrasing of choice.”  Jon scratched his beard as Sansa thought back to her reunion with her youngest brother.  He’d arrived towards the end of the meal, having taken an earlier flight from Skagos as a surprise.  “Maybe he was still a little drunk from that music festival he was at.”

“Maybe.”  Sansa allowed Jon his kind fib.  That had most definitely _not_ been her brother’s meaning.  But then they hadn’t seen Rick in person since Christmas, and you could only tell so much from a video call.  Right?

“What do you want me to put in first, your things or the baby’s?” Jon asked. 

Sansa thought for a moment, trying to figure out what she would need and when.  “Split it in half, so the baby’s things are on one side and mine are on the other.  We should have the things we’ll need first at the top and the rest can just be pulled out, right?  Do you think?”

Jon laughed.  “Sansa, my idea of packing a suitcase usually involves me throwing things into it in whatever order I come across what I need.  If I’m honest, it’s probably closer to Arya’s idea of how to pack a suitcase than yours.”

“Fair enough”, she shrugged.  Sansa pulled open the top drawer, the one in which they’d stored the smallest of the baby clothes they’d bought and been given.  She lifted out a couple of the plain white all-in-one suits and a few little outfits that looked so small she couldn’t quite believe they’d fit a real person and not a doll. 

“They’re so tiny”, Jon said softly, echoing her words.  He pulled out the _Daddy’s Little Muggle_ t-shirt he’d bought all those weeks ago.  Sansa laughed.  She’d figured that was going to end up in her bag and told Jon so.  He looked at her a tad sheepishly, but packed it away all the same. 

Where’s my toiletries bag?”  Sansa muttered.  She looked around the room and eventually saw it on the rocking chair.  Sansa went to fetch the pink polka dot toilet bag she’d picked up at Wintertown Pharmacy the other day.  She’d also bought a number of travel-size toiletries from their display as a bit of a space saver.  Shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, talc, a pocket size toothbrush and some toothpaste. 

It went into the bag, along with the nightclothes Sansa had chosen and a couple of sets of leggings and floaty maternity dresses.  It was strange for her to think that the next time she put on these clothes would be after the baby was born. 

Time was running away from them and it wouldn’t be long before the big day. 

Sansa handed Jon the nursing bras she’d ordered online.  “They aren’t the prettiest, more practical than anything……”

Jon snorted.  “Sansa, if you’re wearing them, then it’s a certainty I’ll find them hot.  I’ve yet to see you in a bra that I didn’t want to help you take off.”

Jon kissed her sweetly and packed the nursing bras.  Sansa bit her lip as the thought he might not find her milk-heavy breasts attractive flashed through her mind.  He might find it a bit icky once he’d seen her nurse.

“I bought this”, said Sansa.  She showed Jon the book she’d ordered online, a sequel to Ebrose’s _Expectant Mother_ entitled _New Mother_.  Sansa had already skimmed through some of it, and thought it full of handy hints and suggestions for new mothers – particularly first time mothers. 

She glanced around the room and took in how homely and welcoming they’d made it, while Jon packed the rest of the things away.  Sansa was in awe of how they’d managed to bring everything together.  Even with the neutral palate they’d selected, it was still so warm and inviting and _right_.  This would be their little nugget’s first room in their home. 

Sansa sighed gently at the thought of sitting in the rocking chair and nursing, of reading fairy tales as a bedtime story, of pacing the room trying to induce sleep.  She was excited and nervous and felt so blessed to have everything she’d ever wanted. 

“Hey, where are you?”  Jon asked.  He cupped her cheek gently and swiped his thumb across it, brushing away the tears Sansa hadn’t realized were falling. 

“It’s just…..it feels like it’s about to really happen.”  Sansa didn’t quite know how to explain it to him.  She was feeling too many emotions, some of which conflicted with each other.

Jon wrapped his arms around her. 

“Yes, it is.”  He ran his fingers through her hair and murmured softly how much he loved her.


	28. Twenty-eight - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sansa spend a lazy afternoon in bed before the Starks come together to celebrate Robb and Jeyne's engagement.

Jon stretched out on the sofa and yawned widely.  Sansa – and, consequently, Jon – had been up several times during the night.  She complained that the baby was both under the impression her bladder was a squeeze toy and moving around so much it was impossible to rest.  In the end, Jon had stayed up with her for large chunks of the night.

“Don’t”, Sansa said through her own yawn.  “See, you’ve got me started now.”

“I vote we have a nap this afternoon”, said Jon.  It wasn’t long since they’d had lunch and they didn’t need to be at Citadel until seven.  “A proper nap.  One where, you know, we actually sleep.”

Sansa giggled but agreed.  Normally any naps they had didn’t require any form of clothing.  But, over the last few days, they’d pulled back on that a little.  Sansa was uncomfortable in her own skin and found moving around difficult. 

“Urgh”, Sansa mumbled.  She rubbed her chest.  “That Braavosi food we got from the deli for lunch is really coming back on me.  Damn heartburn.”

“If you’re not feeling up to going tonight…..”

“We’re going.”  Sansa sounded determined.  “As I told Robb last weekend, I’m not an invalid.  I’m pregnant.  And – well – they’ve waited so long for this dinner, my parents and Robb and Jeyne.  It would be wrong of me to cancel on them simply because I’ve got a bit of heartburn.”

Jon grabbed her hand across the sofa.  “Hey.  If you feel up to it, we go.  If not, Robb and Jeyne will understand.  The baby comes first.”

“I will feel up to it.”  Gods, she could be so stubborn at times.  Such a Stark.  “I had a text from Arya when you were clearing up after lunch.  She and Gendry made it up alright.  They’re here until Monday afternoon.  Gendry couldn’t take any more time than that away from the garage.”

**********

“I feel a lot better now”, Sansa assured him.  Jon glanced at the time on his phone and saw it was a little after five.  They’d been asleep for a bit under three hours.  Well, they’d dozed and then slept.  The baby seemed to be going for some sort of dancing record, Sansa had claimed, and wouldn’t stop moving around. 

Jon took her hand and threaded their fingers, laying them entwined on top of Sansa’s belly.  “We’re still moving around in there.  Gods, but this child will be running before he or she can walk.  We might have a future runner on our hands.”

“A good way to get rid of excess energy”, said Sansa.  She turned to face Jon and got a wicked grin on her face.  “So, speaking of getting rid of excess energy – “

“Energy I have.  Not sure I have an excess of it at the moment”, Jon replied wryly.  He knew where this was headed, but figured he could work some teasing in there along the way. 

“Really?”  Sansa moved closer to him and shifted their hands from her belly to his groin, rubbing them up and down the front of Jon’s jeans.  He moaned at the touch and felt his cock begin to twitch.  It was very much interested in the idea of burning off some energy. 

Jon bridged the gap between them further and ran his fingers through Sansa’s hair.  He leaned in and kissed her, wondering just how she managed to bewitch him like this every single time.  Gods, but they should have been doing this for years.  If only he’d seen sense and manned up years ago. 

He let their tongues dance in unison as his hands wandered southward to cup Sansa’s breasts through the over-sized shirt she wore.  His fingers soon found the outline of her taut nipples and drew circles around them.  Sansa moaned into Jon’s mouth and then grabbed his hand.  Between the two of them they unbuttoned her shirt halfway down and Sansa slid his hand inside, bringing him closer to her flesh. 

Jon caressed her breast through her bra at first.  He liked to take his time with Sansa.  They still had the odd quick fuck from time to time – something Jon had realized he’d need to get used to when the baby arrived and they had more than just themselves to consider – but Jon loved to just lay Sansa out and spent what felt like hours worshipping her with his fingers, his tongue and his cock. 

“ _Gods, Jon_ ”, Sansa murmured into his mouth.  He could hear and feel her whining with need and want as his fingers made full contact with her breast, moving inside her bra.  Jon loved Sansa’s tits.  They were just right, as if they’d been made for the sole purpose of allowing Jon to bring Sansa pleasure. 

His mouth left Sansa’s and Jon pulled back.  He could see how dark her eyes had become.  Like the midnight sky instead of the morning.  Jon pressed his lips to Sansa’s neck and worked his way down to the valley between her breasts.  The rest of the shirt was unbuttoned very quickly and removed just as speedily.  While Sansa took of her bra and three it off in whatever direction, Jon’s mouth moved onto her breasts. 

Jon continued to fondle the breast he’d lavished attention on and took the nipple of the other into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.  He shifted his position, moving in between Sansa’s legs.  She whined when he parted them, stopping her from rubbing them together for friction. 

“ _No fair_ ”, she gasped out.  “ _Need….fuck……need you to touch me there, Jon_.”

Jon grinned into her breast.  He bent down and pulled off her leggings and panties, feeling how wet her underwear was.  “Your wish is my command, my lady.”

He pressed soft, sweet kisses down her belly as one of his fingers entered Sansa’s hot, wet centre.  Jon could hear Sansa moan in contentment as he fingered her.  He picked up the pace, entering a second finger along with the first and filling her up. 

“ _Yes – yes.  More!_ ”

Jon pulled his fingers out of Sansa’s core, replacing them with his mouth.  He licked up and down her slit, tasting the juices of her arousal.  Hells, he loved doing this.  Always had.  It was so intimate and, if Jon was honest with himself, hot as fuck. 

And then his tongue found her clit.  It was so sensitive by this point, and Sansa so turned on, that it didn’t take long for her to scream out in ecstasy and relief.  She shouted his name for all to hear.  Over and over and over again.  He started to feel her come down from it and moved his tongue back into position, lapping up Sansa’s juices and bringing her to her peak a second time before she pleaded with him to stop. 

“Up here”, Sansa insisted, beckoning him upwards with a perfectly manicured finger.  “I want to taste myself on your lips.”

Jon moaned as Sansa licked and nibbled at every bit of his lips she could get, before sucking the life out of his tongue.  His jeans were beginning to become uncomfortably tight and the downward shift of Sansa’s hands weren’t helping anything.  He felt her fingers ghost over his tightening stomach and reach the top of his jeans. 

“Looks like you’re in need of a little help”, Sansa giggled. 

“Mmmnurgh”, Jon moaned.  Sansa rubbed over the outline of his cock again and again.  Worrying about the fate of his jeans, Jon pushed of the bed and quickly rid himself of his clothes.  In a matter of seconds he was back on the bed, naked, his cock jutting out in excitement. 

Jon was hard as a rock and knew when he finally burst he would come so hard he saw stars.  Sansa was great at making him do _that_. 

“Lie down”, she ordered him.  Jon did as he was bid and soon Sansa was hovering over him, deliciously naked, her tits swaying with every little movement.  She grinned down at Jon and then copied his actions from earlier, kisses starting at his neck and then going south.  Jon could feel Sansa’s nipples brush his bare skin and began to caress her breasts again, kneading them lightly. 

Sansa moaned into his skin, sending shudders through Jon.  Gods, but they were so, so, so good at this!

Her mouth reached his cock and Jon’s hands moved to Sansa’s hair.  He ran his fingers though it and felt the pure want he had course through his veins.  She made his skin hum and his body sing.  They were a duet, working in unison to reach the crescendo of the piece. 

Sansa pressed soft kisses to the head of his cock and ran her fingers up and down his shaft, before taking him into her mouth and swallowing him almost whole.  Jon felt his cock hit what he thought was the back of Sansa’s throat and screamed her name. 

“ _FUCK!  SANSA!_ ”

She responded by moving her head backwards and he heard a pop as his cock left Sansa’s warm mouth and met the cool air again.  Sansa didn’t stop there.  She treated his cock as if it were a popsicle she was licking and sucking on a warm summer’s day.  As if it were her first meal and her last. 

Jon knew he wouldn’t last long like this.  He could feel his balls fill up and tighten, and Sansa rubbing her tits up against his cock wasn’t helping matters.  They looked so full and soft. 

She bent down and growled at him.  “This time, Jon Snow, you’re going to come in my mouth.  But next time….next time I want you to come all over my tits.  I want you to claim them as yours.”

And then her mouth was covering his cock again, pumping it in and out of her beautiful pink lips.  He couldn’t hang on any longer and let go, filling her mouth as he chanted her name.

“ _Sansa…..Sansa…..Sansa…..Sansa……_ fuck _, Sansa……._ ”

Jon’s heavily lidded eyes fluttered shut and then open again, catching sight of a grinning Sansa wiping her mouth.  There were few sights more beautiful than Sansa after the two of them had done this.  Her cheeks and lips were a beautiful, dusky pink and her eyes a dark, navy blue. 

“Fuck, but that was amazing”, Jon sighed.  Sansa moved and lay down next to him.  Jon could feel her tits lean into his side and lay a hand on top of one of them.  “Well, we certainly used up any energy we had there!  It’s a good thing we’re going out for dinner.  Robb will insist on three courses and that’ll fill us back up again.”

“Definitely”, Sansa mumbled.  She shifted his hand down further to her belly.  The baby was moving around again.  Jon hoped this energetic baby would allow his or her mother some rest tonight. 

**********

“Do you think this will do?” Sansa asked as Jon came out of the en-suite.  _Will it do?_   Jon thought she looked beautiful and told her so.  Sansa snorted.  “Please.  My swollen ankles and feet won’t let me squeeze into any of my good shoes, my best maternity dress is now too small for me – if you can believe that – “

“Sansa, you look beautiful”, Jon insisted.  “And I don’t care if you’re in heels or flats.  Whatever you feel most comfortable in is what you should have on.  We’re going out for dinner, not to a fashion show.  I like the wolf bit.”

Sansa chuckled, but Jon meant what he had said. 

“Really.  You always look beautiful to me.  If it helps, I can promise you that I’m already looking forward to taking that off you when we get back tonight.”  Jon walked over to Sansa and kissed her, trying to show her the truth of how he felt. 

“Urgh.”

“What?”  Jon tried to hide his concern as Sansa rubbed her side.  She waved it off with a shake of her hand. 

“Oh, nothing.  I just – I think that heartburn’s turned into indigestion.  Or something like that.  I’m fine, Jon.  It just caught me for a moment there, that’s all.  We are going to dinner.”

“We are”, Jon conceded.  If Sansa truly didn’t feel well enough then she would say so.  He was sure her insistence nothing would stop her from going was part of the determination he’d witnessed during the week to continue as normal in spite of how close they were to the baby’s birth. 

As he shed his towel and pulled on the suit he’d picked out, Jon’s mind drifted back to early Wednesday afternoon.  Alys had called him out from his office just before lunchtime and Sansa had been standing there, smiling at him, come to surprise him with a lunch date. 

Occasionally Jon wondered if Sansa felt as if she were marking time until the baby arrived.  Everything was planned out and prepared.  The nursery was ready and her hospital bag packed.  All the baby things they needed were bought and had been put away in their rightful place. 

They’d gone to Griffin’s Roost, a restaurant that specialized in chicken dishes and shared a platter for two.  Jon had a meeting that limited their time there – but that didn’t stop him appreciating Sansa’s surprise for them.  They’d spoken more than once about spending time together as a couple before the baby came.  Once again, as he pulled on his good black shoes, Jon regretted not taking her away on a babymoon somewhere. 

“Shit, that’s twenty to seven, Jon”, Sansa told him.  Neither of them wanted to be late.  Citadel was an exclusive restaurant and both Jon and Sansa knew their table was a big reservation.  The least they could do was arrive on time.  Besides, Arya would rightly assume they’d spent a great deal of the day in bed if they were late. 

And Jon had experienced quite enough of Arya’s unfiltered comments on his and Sansa’s relationship for now. 

**********

As it was, he and Sansa were by no means last to arrive.  The honour – and the ribbing that accompanied it – went to Robb and Jeyne.  Jon didn’t mention the flush that went up Robb’s neck as he took the seat next to Jon’s and listened to Arya musing aloud just what could have kept them this late. 

That was soon forgotten, however, as the drinks began to flow and menus were passed around.  Jon looked longingly at the ice cold champagne Ned had made a point of ordering for the table, but he reasoned he wasn’t the only one going without.  Ned himself and Gendry were also driving, and Sansa’s pregnancy precluded her partaking. 

Before the waiter could come round to take their order, Ned ensured everyone had a full glass of either champagne or sparkling juice.  He stood and immediately commanded everyone’s attention. 

“I won’t speak long.  I imagine that when the time comes, there will be plenty of speeches to sit through, so consider this more a toast.  Jeyne, it seems strange to welcome you to the family when it feels like you’ve already been part of it for a long time now.  Nevertheless, we all want to extend our congratulations to you and Robb.  He is incredibly lucky and we wish you both a life of happiness together.  To Robb and Jeyne!”

Ned raised his glass and everyone else followed suit.  Jon saw the way Robb gave Jeyne a side-glance and grabbed at her hand.  He couldn’t be happier for Robb.  For years, Jon had seen this moment as entirely inevitable and he knew Robb and Jeyne deserved all the good fortune they found together. 

Jon touched the tip of his glass to Sansa’s and smiled at her.  One day, this would be them.  They’d be out for dinner with Ned, Catelyn and the rest to toast _their_ engagement.  One day, Jon would officially ask Sansa to make him as happy as Jeyne made Robb. 

He leaned over and kissed Sansa lightly.  “I love you.”

“Me too”, she grinned, scrunching up her nose.  Jon didn’t mention the soothing rubs she was giving her side every so often.  If Sansa insisted the indigestion wasn’t troubling her too much then he trusted her word.  However much he might worry about her and the baby.  Regardless, he decided not to go back to the Braavosi deli until after the baby was born. 

“Gods, you’re all so disgusting”, Rickon groaned.  “Whatever happened to living a little?  Gods, even Arya’s halfway to being one of those – what do you call them? – smug marrieds.”

“I am not!” Arya replied hotly.  “I’ll have you know that me and Gendry – “

“Yeah, we’re not talking about that here”, Gendry interrupted.  Jon thought him wise.  He would be the last person to try and point out to Arya that she was actually in a committed long-term relationship.  A pretty conventional one.  He’d leave her to figure it out for herself, have a freak-out, and then marry Gendry quietly. 

Jon still believed what he and Sansa had discussed – that Arya would simply turn up for a visit one day and casually slip into conversation that she and Gendry had married with strangers as witnesses to a small, intimate ceremony. 

“You can live a little with another person, Rickon”, Sansa told her younger brother with a smile.  As she turned round and gave him a look that wordlessly spoke of her love for him, Jon caught sight out of the corner of his eye of Rickon miming vomiting. 

Jon said nothing, only reminding himself that Rickon was eighteen and living away from home for the first time.  He’d sow his wild oats and one day they’d all be here celebrating _his_ engagement.  At which point, Arya would probably remind him of this conversation. 

“I think we should get ready to order”, said Catelyn, redirecting everyone to their menus.  Jon glanced through his and tried to decide between the stuffed chicken and the seabass.

**********

“I’m going to run to the bathroom while we’re waiting”, Sansa told him with a pat on the arm.  They had just ordered dessert and Jon had selected lemon cake with a grin, knowing Sansa would help him eat it. 

“I’ll come with you”, said Jeyne.  Jon watched as Catelyn and even Arya went with them. 

Jon swallowed some of the soda he’d switched to and turned to Robb.  “This is a nice place.  I can’t believe I’ve never been before.”  He made a mental note to bring Sansa here for a date night.

“Hmm”, Robb replied, shrugging.  “It’s okay.  Their portions are massive, but some of the food is a bit complicated.  You know, I’ve never understood why women seem to feel the need to go to the bathroom together like that.  What do they do in there?”

Jon laughed.  “I don’t know.  Fix their make-up?  Gossip about us?” 

“Listen, thank you for coming.  I know Sansa – “

“Is pregnant”, interrupted Jon.  He rolled his eyes.  “She’s not an invalid, as she has said more than once herself.  Yes, her ankles are swollen and she’s uncomfortable in her own skin and she should really be resting right now, but she was never going to miss this.”

Quote Sansa and back her up he might, but Jon hoped the night would end with dessert and allow him to take Sansa home.  She was in need of a good night’s sleep though he doubted their child would grant Sansa that.  He or she had been restless at night of late.  Jon said a silent prayer to any deity that existed it was not a sign of things to come. 

Gendry said his name and Jon turned to give him his full attention when his eye was caught by the sight of Jeyne, all but running back to the table from the bathroom.  She came to a stop next to Jon’s chair, a look on her face Jon couldn’t read. 

“Sansa’s water has broken.  It was….we were in the bathroom and then all of a sudden……she’s in labour.  We – she – we need to get her to the hospital.”

Jon was completely dumbfounded.  He found himself unable to move and to comprehend what was going on around him, and had to force himself to concentrate on what Jeyne was saying.  “But…..she isn’t due for another three weeks.”

“I don’t think the baby’s going to wait that long.”  Robb patted Jon on the shoulder and he mentally shook himself.  He saw Sansa coming towards him, helped along by Catelyn and Arya, and it had Jon jumping out of his seat and practically running towards her.  Seeing her reminded Jon he had to _act_.  And fast. 

“Sansa, sweetheart, I – “  He didn’t quite have the words to convey where his head was at.  Their little nugget was making his or her way out into the world.  They’d meet in person in a matter of hours.  Suddenly, everything felt so real to him in a way it hadn’t before.

“I’m so, so sorry”, Sansa gasped.  “I should’ve known it wasn’t indigestion, Jon.  It’s early.”

Sansa let go of her mother and sister and grabbed onto him.  Jon wrapped an arm around Sansa and tried to quieten any fears she had.  “How could you have known?  You’ve never had a child before.  And yes, it is early, but it isn’t _too_ early.  Three weeks is nothing.”

Trying to calm Sansa seemed to have calmed _him_ slightly, Jon found.  He pulled out his house keys and threw them over to Gendry.  “I need someone to pick up Sansa’s hospital bag.  We don’t have time to go back for it.  We need to go straight to the hospital.  It’s upstairs, in the nursery, next to the crib.  You and Arya, can you fetch it for us?”

“Of course”, Gendry nodded. 

“We’ll take care of the check and follow you.  Robb, Jeyne, you can come with us”, Ned offered.  They made arrangements between them, but their voices drifted into the background as Jon focused all of his attention on Sansa. 

“Hey.  Hey, it’s going to be alright.  It’s all going to be alright.  Remember those breathing exercises you were showing me the other day?”  Sansa panted and winced, but she squeezed Jon’s hand in a way that told him she understood.  “Right.  Okay.  I’m going to get your bag and then we’re going to go out to the car and drive to the hospital.  It’s only ten minutes away.  Fifteen tops.”

“But, we were having dinner.  We’ve still got to have dessert.  My lemon cake.”

“We can have lemon cake another time.  I don’t think our baby can wait, sweet.”

“Jon?” Sansa gasped.  “Jon, I love you.”

Jon grinned.  “I love you too.  Come on, let’s get this show on the road.”

He grabbed Sansa’s clutch bag from where she’d left it on the table and guided her out of the restaurant towards the car.  Jon ignored the curious looks they were getting from staff and patrons alike as they all but stared at him and Sansa.  They were having a baby.  Nothing paranormal or weird about that. 

Jon’s heart began to speed as he tried to take in the fact that their child would be born in a matter of hours.  The sweet little babe who’d kept Sansa up most of the night before would be keeping her up most of tonight, but in a very different way. 

As they reached the car, Jon opened the passenger side door and gently helped Sansa inside.  She moaned in pain when he reached across to buckle in her seatbelt. 

“A contraction”, Sansa panted.  “Gods, but it hurts, Jon.”

“You’re doing good, though, Sansa.  You’re so, so brave”, he tried to reassure her, before running round and getting into the car himself.  Jon wasn’t stupid enough to try and act like he could understand her pain levels.  He couldn’t and he wasn’t about to be one of those men who fell into that trap. 

Sam had already pre-warned him not to. 

Before Jon turned on the ignition, he turned to Sansa and grabbed her hand across the centre.  “Hey.  We’re going to get through this.  We’re going through a tunnel and when we come out on the other side, we finally get to meet our little nugget.”

Sansa smiled back at him.  “Yeah.  Yeah, we do.”


	29. Twenty-nine - Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sansa finally get to meet their child.

Sansa grabbed tightly onto the seat in Jon’s car as she rode out another contraction on their way to the hospital.  It had seemed to happen so suddenly in the restaurant bathroom.  One moment she’d been listening to Jeyne chatter away about the resort she and Robb were booked into for their summer holiday in Dorne, then she’d felt something and her water had broken.

She wasn’t sure if she’d forget the look on Arya’s face.  A mixture of horror and revulsion and curiosity. 

Thankfully, her mother had been there and taken her hand.  Asked Sansa if she’d had any pains earlier on in the day.  All of a sudden, the _indigestion_ seemed to have a whole new meaning.  She couldn’t believe she’d brought everyone away from Robb and Jeyne’s engagement dinner like that. 

Gods only knew what the other diners must have thought of the sight of Jon leading her out to the car.  Sansa wasn’t sure when the mortification would leave her long enough to go back there. 

“We’re not that far away”, Jon assured her when the contraction was over and Sansa stopped wincing.  Maybe it was for the best that the baby had decided to make his or her arrival over a weekend.  Sansa couldn’t imagine how much terror she would’ve felt had she been alone.  Without either her mother or Jon to give her comfort and get her to the hospital. 

When they stopped at a set of traffic lights, Jon leaned over the console between them and placed a comforting hand on hers momentarily. 

“We’ll get through this.  I promise.  We’re almost at the hospital.  Can you – I’m sorry, Sansa, you’re going to make it there?”

Sansa laughed loudly in spite of everything.  “No need to worry.  I’m not about to give birth in your car.  I’ll make it to the hospital.  But, Jon, I’ve been having these pains – the pains I thought were indigestion – on and off for a few hours now.  I don’t…..I don’t know how long it’ll be.”

Her grip on the chair tightened as the lights changed and Jon moved off again.  This was the part Sansa had always overlooked when considering how much she wanted children.  The part where she actually gave birth.  If only she could go directly from now to holding their baby in her arms. 

She was scared and she didn’t want to admit to Jon just how much that was the case. 

Part of Sansa felt she was being silly.  So few women died in childbirth now.  But another, tiny, small, doubting part, recalled that this was the weekend and many of the more experienced doctors worked Monday to Friday.

“Here we are”, said Jon, cutting through her thoughts and fears as he parked the car very close to the ER.  “I think I broke the speed limits a couple of times, but I’m sure a sympathetic judge would understand if I get a summons through the mail.  Two seconds, and I’ll be round.”

Jon ran round the car and helped Sansa out.  She held onto him tightly and closed the gap again if ever it felt like he was getting away from her.  Sansa wanted Jon by her side throughout this.  He kept her going as they walked through the door at the ER. 

Looking around, Sansa could see it was a moderately busy evening.  She was thankful she’d be quickly moving to the front of the queue.  It was unclear just how long she’d be waiting for the baby’s arrival. 

“Sansa?!”  Sansa couldn’t put into words just how relieved she was to find Megga Tyrell working.  Megga came over immediately and wrapped an arm around Sansa, flanking her other side.  “Are you having contractions?  How often?  When did they start – “

“Her water broke when we were out for dinner.  She’s had a couple of contractions in the car.  I guess it took us maybe ten minutes to get here”, said Jon.  Sansa nodded gratefully.  She needed to save as much energy as possible.  Perhaps spending all her built-up energy on pleasuring herself and Jon that afternoon hadn’t been the best idea after all. 

“Okay, let’s get you through to a room and make you more comfortable.  Doc. Mullendore, remember him?  You saw him the day of the fire.”  Sansa nodded, biting her lip as she felt another contraction begin.  “He’s working tonight.  I’ll sign him up for you on the board.  We’ll see how far along you are and then try to bag a maternity bed for you.”

Megga led them through to the other side of reception and along the corridor to a small room out of the way of everyone else, pausing more than once as Sansa’s contraction overcame her.  This was _not_ going to be an easy night.  When they reached the room, Sansa was relieved to see Megga close the blinds.

“Here.  Jon, if you can give me a hand?”  Between the two of them, they managed to help Sansa up onto the bed.  As she left the room, Sansa felt tears leak from the corner of her eyes. 

“Hey, hush”, said Jon.  He pulled her into a tight hug.  “The doctor will be in very soon.  Are you – we never talked about this before – do you want them to give you something?”

Sansa nodded into Jon’s warm chest.  She’d always thought she would at least try to make it through without drugs, even if she and Jon had never discussed that or any other part of the actual birth.  For some reason, that was the one pregnancy-related subject they’d never really broached. 

“I want to be brave.”

“You are”, said Jon.  He seemed so sure.  “Taking the drugs doesn’t mean you’re not brave, Sansa.  Don’t ever think that.  Gilly’s brave isn’t she?”

“Yes”, Sansa replied warily. 

“She took the drugs.  Or so Sam said.  Shit, Sam.  I need to text him later.  I was meant to go over tomorrow morning.  Won’t be doing that now”, he attempted to jest.  “When it hurts, squeeze my hand.  That’s what they do on TV, isn’t it?  Squeeze as hard as you can.”

“You might regret saying that”, Sansa laughed.  She could tell Jon was just as nervous as she was. 

“Here we are, then”, said Doc. Mullendore as he wandered in the door.  Sansa recognised his friendly tone and monkey grin.  “Megga’s brought me up to speed on where you are, Sansa.  Maternity can be a big tight on space at times, so when you go up will depend on how far on you are.  Okay?”

Sansa held onto Jon’s hand as Megga removed her sodden leggings and allowed Doc. Mullendore access to see how far along she was.  Sansa hoped she wouldn’t be in the ER for too long.

“My family is on their way in”, she told Megga.  “All of them.  Could you – could you maybe keep an eye out for them and keep them updated for me?”

“Of course”, she smiled.  Megga looked at Doc. Mullendore, who nodded briefly.  Sansa gazed at the two of them curiously. 

“Nurse Tyrell can delegate that to someone else.  Right now, she’s coming up to Maternity with us to get you settled in”, said Doc. Mullendore.

“Wh-what?” Sansa stuttered. 

“You’re dilated enough that we’ll be taking you straight upstairs.  There’s a fairly good chance this baby may be born tonight.  At the very least, the three of you will be able to eat breakfast together tomorrow morning.”

“Really?”  Sansa didn’t miss the catch in Jon’s voice as he spoke, not the tightened grip of his hand.  She looked up at him. 

“Really”, the doctor chuckled. 

**********

Although Sansa had appreciated the privacy the poky ER room afforded her, she still felt a sense of relief as she looked around the larger, airier one she was given up on the Maternity Unit.  There was a window left slightly ajar, bringing in the much-needed cool evening air, the walls were painted a light shade of cream, and the windows out to the corridor – though large, taking up much of two of the walls given where the room was situated – were covered with reflective blinds that saved rather than banished light. 

Megga had come upstairs with her, along with Doc. Mullendore, and dispatched her into the seemingly capable hands of Doc. Mooton (who insisted Sansa call her Ellie) and Nurse Santagar.  The latter had a Dornish lilt to her speech and had Sansa thinking of the dinner they’d abandoned.  She wondered idly what part of Dorne the young woman had come from; if it was near the resort Jeyne had been telling her about when her waters had broken. 

Sansa thought of her family waiting somewhere inside the hospital for news.  Another contraction hit and Sansa grabbed onto Jon’s hand tightly. 

Doc. Mooton – Ellie – came and sat down on a stool at the top end of the bed.  “Sansa, we have a very small window left for pain relief, alright?  If you want it, then I need you to say so now.  You aren’t going to get another chance.”

Sansa bit her lip and nodded. 

“Good.  And don’t worry – those women who write magazine op-ed pieces trying to make out anyone who uses pain relief isn’t tough, or isn’t a real woman, don’t know what they’re talking about.  Knowing your own mind makes you strong.    

“Okay”, Sansa mumbled.  That hadn’t been at the forefront of her mind, what other people thought, but it was something she’d always wanted for herself.  She didn’t want the drugs to muddle with her mind.  Sansa wanted to be lucid to remember forever the first moment she locked eyes on their child. 

“Right, dad, I’m going to ask you to step outside for a moment.  We’ll get Sansa into a gown and administer the pain relief.  When you come back in, Nurse Santagar will get you a gown of your own.”  Sansa gave Jon a quick smile before he was ushered out of the room post-haste by the nurse. 

“See if you can find my family”, Sansa called after him.  Arya and Gendry should have arrived by now with her hospital bag.  She wondered how late they’d all stay.  Her parents would until the end, in any case. 

Nurse Santagar produced a gown, which she described as _not the prettiest thing you’ll ever wear_ , and helped Sansa into it while Doc. Mooton prepared her pain relief.  Sansa had another contraction halfway through the change of clothing and grabbed onto the nurse’s arm, not caring she was completely naked in front of two strangers.  They were about to see a child come out of her.  Riding out the pain, Sansa knew this wasn’t the time for niceties and propriety. 

“Fuck”, she muttered to herself when the pain subsided. 

“They’re getting closer”, Doc. Mooton commented to Sansa’s side.  “That’s a good thing.  It means the baby is progressing as he or she should be.  I saw from Doc. Luwin’s notes that you decided against confirming the baby’s gender.”

Sansa slid her arm into the hospital gown.  “Figured we didn’t need to wait much longer – be less time now anyway – and it, well, it seemed to mean a lot to Jon for it to be a surprise.”

Nurse Santagar snorted.  “Urgh.  How often do we decide things based on a man’s feelings?  Too often, I say.”

“Jon’s been great.  And I was going back and forth on whether or not I wanted to”, said Sansa.  “Thanks.”

With Sansa back in position on the bed in her gown, Nurse Santagar held her hand while Doc. Mooton administered the pain relief.  Sansa wondered why pain relief hurt so much but didn’t comment, simply biting her lip.  At least Jon would be allowed back into the room in a moment.  She didn’t want to do this without him. 

Jon had become her rock.  Her friend.  Her lover.  Her confidant.  Her everything.  They were a team now, and soon they would become a family. 

And when he came back into the room at that moment, all Sansa wanted him to do was take her in his arms and hold her.  She wanted Jon to chase the pain away.  It would all be manageable with him there to help her through it. 

He had her bag with him, and placed it on the other side of the cabinet next to her bed, out of the way.  “They’re all thinking of you.  Your mother says she’s with you.”

Sansa felt a small tear leak out of the corner of her eye.

“Nurse Santagar, let’s get dad gowned up”, Doc. Mooton said briskly.  Sansa lay back on the bed, her eyes shifting between Jon being forced into a medical gown and hat thing and the doctor opening up her legs and examining her.  She placed a hand on her belly and sent positive loving thoughts to their little nugget. 

Sansa had thought this so many times, but it really, really, really wouldn’t be long now until they met in person in the outside world. 

“Can you imagine what Robb would say if he saw me in this?” Jon jested.  He grabbed hold of her hand and reminded her of the breathing exercises.  Sansa nodded and gripped tightly. 

“After…..I want a picture of you in that get-up”, Sansa told him through gritted teeth, feeling another contraction coming on.  Even with the pain relief, it was still far beyond any agony Sansa had ever felt.  It would be worth it, though, she knew. 

It would all be worth it when she held their child in her arms.

**********

Although it was only a few hours later when Doc. Mooton uttered those three words Sansa had been waiting for, it felt like forever.  _Time to push._   While she wanted to recall the first moment she met their child, Sansa did not want to remember the agony it was taking to get there.  Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days. 

In many ways, Sansa lost all sense of time.  It was measured in the cups of ice chips Jon gave her, in the checks Nurse Santagar made on the monitor readings, in the examinations Doc. Mooton made to see how dilated she was. 

And so, _time to push_ , therefore felt to Sansa like the best three words Sansa had heard in a very long time. 

Jon kissed the top of her head.  “I love you”, he murmured, his hand still in her vice-like grip. 

With all the energy she had left, Sansa pushed on the next contraction.  It felt a little bit like she was trying to push a grapefruit out of her arse, but she didn’t care.  _That moment_ , the moment she’d been waiting for all these months, was finally here.

“Come on, Sansa”, Jon urged.  “You can do this, I know you can.  You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

Sansa panted, her heart filling with love, and concentrated. 

“That was good”, Doc. Mooton told her.  Sansa could no longer see the doctor above the tent her raised knees and gown created.  “Next time, I want you to do the same thing again.  The exact same thing.  We’re getting there.  This baby wants to come out, I promise.  You’re doing great.”

Sansa took a couple of deep breaths and then recommenced the breathing exercises she’d learned.  _She_ could do this.  She _could_ do this.  She could do _this_.

And while Sansa didn’t get there on the next contraction or the one after, she finally gave an almighty push and heard the most beautiful sound she’d ever encountered in her entire life.  The sound of their child’s first cry. 

Their little nugget was finally here. 

“Wow”, she heard Jon gasp from next to her.  He leaned in and kissed her lightly.  “You did it, Sans.  You did it.  You were so, so amazing, sweetheart.”

It was all so strange.  It was as if she was in her body and floating above it all at the same time. 

And then, Doc. Mooton’s face appeared in Sansa’s sight again.  _Finally_.  The doctor was beaming widely and holding a tiny, red, wailing little thing.  Their child was so small.  So precious.  Doc Mooton came around and lay the baby on Sansa’s chest. 

“Sansa, meet your daughter.”

Sansa felt the tears sprinting down her cheeks.  She was so filled with love and affection and the need to protect the little person clinging onto her for dear life.  Sansa stroked the baby’s back.  Nothing that had happened before could ever compare to this. 

She didn’t care about the tear streaks down her cheeks or the sweaty hair plastered to her face.  She didn’t care that she was in the ugliest hospital gown she’d ever seen or the agony she’d endured over the last few hours.  None of that mattered, not really, because Sansa was holding their child.  _Their daughter_.  And everything she wanted was right here in this hospital room. 

Jon and their daughter were her family.  They were everything.  And Sansa would move mountains to keep them safe and happy. 

Jon ran a gentle finger over the dark down on their daughter’s head.  She had her father’s hair.  Sansa hoped it would grow as curly as Jon’s.  Perhaps there might be something else in her appearance that spoke of her mother.  Regardless, their daughter was part her and part Jon. 

“She’s perfect”, sighed Jon.  Sansa could see the emotion on his face and the unshed tears glistening in his eyes.  He was as moved by the sight as she was.  “You’re both perfect.”

**********

Once Nurse Santagar and Doc. Mooton had dealt with the formalities of cleaning, weighing and measuring their daughter, and the after birth, Sansa found herself left with Jon and their daughter for a precious few moments. 

“It’s after midnight”, sighed Sansa.  She felt exhausted.  For all it had been entirely worth it, Sansa couldn’t deny that the birth had been hard on her. 

“A Sunday baby”, said Jon.  “I wonder what that means for her.  A lifetime of being spoiled at grandma and grandpa’s weekly dinners?”

Sansa laughed.  “She was always going to get that anyway.”

“How can someone be so perfect?” Jon asked as he held her little hand.  She lay in her father’s arms, with Jon sat next to Sansa on her wonderfully uncomfortable bed.  Sansa wondered when Jon would bring himself to allow their daughter her rest.  He seemed to want to hold onto her, to make sure she was real, to show her how loved and protected she was. 

“And she’s so tiny!  Her little fingers and toes.  I don’t remember it being like this when I went to visit Sam and Aemon in the hospital, after Gilly gave birth.”

“I guess it’s different when it’s your own child”, said Sansa.  She bit her lip.  “Now we’ve met our little nugget, I’m not entirely sure how long we can keep calling her that.”

Jon chuckled and stroked their daughter’s arm.  “So what do you think, then?  What’s her name?”

Sansa took a deep breath in.  She’d decided long ago what name she’d pick out if their child was a girl.  The question was, would Jon agree?

“Sansa?”

“For a long time, I thought about you, Jon Snow.  On and off.  Off and on.  I’d think how cute you were and how sweet.  I’d wonder what it’d be like if _Robb’s best friend_ thought of me as more than just _Robb’s sister_.  If he saw me as a person in my own right – one he might want to be more than friends with.  Then, nine months ago, we both drank enough to sink a ship.  And I remember _why_ we did.  I feel – Jon, I feel like she was a gift from your mother, and I want to name our daughter after her.  After the amazing grandma she’ll never get to meet.”

Sansa looked at Jon and took in the brightness of his eyes and the bobbing of his throat.  She reached out and touched his thigh.  Jon nodded almost imperceptibly, as if he didn’t quite trust himself to speak.  And then, when he eventually did, Sansa could hear the catch in his voice. 

“Then, perhaps we should name our daughter for both of her grandmothers.”  Sansa felt her own tears begin to gather.  “Lyanna Catelyn.  What do you think?”

“I think it is as perfect as our daughter is”, Sansa told him.  She leaned into Jon’s shoulder and part of her wished they could stay like this forever.  Just the three of them in their own little bubble, safe and happy.

“You were amazing, you know that?  I never could’ve done what you did tonight.  You are the strongest, bravest, most amazing person I’ve ever met, Sansa”, Jon told her.  He kissed her again.  Twelve months ago, she and Jon were simply Robb’s best friend and Robb’s sister.  Now, they were each other’s world and Sansa could not imagine being without Jon. 

Nurse Santagar came back into the room to check on them and grinned at the sight of the baby in Jon’s arms.  “Daddy’s little girl already, is she?”

“Yes”, Jon replied bluntly.  “After meeting her in person, I’m even more concerned that I’ll never, ever be able to tell her _no_.”

“So, do we have a name yet?  Or is she still Baby Stark?”

Sansa smiled.  “We do have a name.  Lyanna – Lyanna Catelyn Snow.”

“Snow?” Jon said softly.  Their agreement to wait until their child was born to pick out a name had been one of the reasons they’d never decided on what the baby’s last name would be.  “I had thought – I wondered if you’d prefer Stark-Snow or Snow-Stark.”

Sansa shook her head.  She thought back to what Jon had said countless times before, pointing to Robb and Jeyne saying _one day, that’ll be us_.  One day, they’d all be called Snow.     

“Our daughter should have her father’s name.”  _As one day soon, I will._   Sansa knew that was where they were headed.  She had never been surer of any man than she had come to be of Jon Snow. 

“I love you.”  Jon turned and kissed her again, waking up Lyanna. 

“You woke her up”, Sansa chuckled.  Jon looked sheepish, but it gave them a chance to look again at their daughter’s beautiful blue eyes.  With Jon’s dark curls and her eyes, Sansa knew her daughter would be a heartbreaker one day.  Though she decided not to mention that to Lyanna’s father.  Sansa doubted he’d be keen to hear of the inevitability of his daughter growing up. 

She let him have this moment. 

“My hair and your eyes”, Jon murmured as he handed Lyanna over.  “Just like Harry Potter, hmm?  I chose right with that t-shirt I bought her.”

Sansa rolled her eyes, pulling down her hospital gown as Nurse Santagar suggested Lyanna might be hungry.  She was nervous at first, wanting to get this right first time.  It might not have worked out that way, but with the nurse’s help, she felt Lyanna latch onto her nipple and begin to take suck. 

She stroked her daughter’s hair and made shushing noises.  Sansa wasn’t quite sure how her heart had managed to expand so much.  It was filled with so much love for Jon and for Lyanna. 

They were a family now.  A team of three.  Sansa hadn’t intended any of this when she’d gone to Jon and Robb’s apartment all those months ago.  But, gods, if Lyanna wasn’t the best unintended consequence she’d ever encountered. 

In the babe at her breast, and the man by her side, Sansa had everything she’d ever dreamed of.


	30. Thirty - Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sansa take Lyanna home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive, massive thank you to everyone who has read, commented and left kudos. This has been such a fun ride and I'm sad to come to the end of it.

Jon looked down in sheer wonder at the babe in his arms.  _Lyanna_.  His daughter.  _Their_ daughter.  It was astounding to think he and Sansa had created this beautiful, amazing, magical being.  Just holding her gave Jon goosebumps. 

He could never have imagined just how much love he was filled with at the mere sight of Lyanna. 

Jon had contemplated once or twice perhaps honouring his mother when it came to his daughter’s middle name (assuming, of course, they had a girl).  But he couldn’t put into words what it had meant when Sansa suggested naming their daughter Lyanna.  Somewhere, Jon knew she was looking down on the three of them.

“She is wonderful”, Jon muttered, gazing at Sansa.  She looked exhausted – and no wonder.  Jon could never have done what Sansa had to bring their daughter into the world. 

“She is”, Sansa agreed.  She yawned widely and Jon glanced at his watch.  It was a little after three.  He wondered how many of the Starks were still awake in the waiting room. 

“You should get some sleep while you can.”  Lyanna hadn’t long finished her first feed and Jon knew from the books he’d read that Sansa should be resting when the baby was. 

“I – “  Before Sansa could reply properly, they were interrupted by the arrival of a beaming Megga Tyrell.

“I had a break, so I thought I’d call up to see how you were getting on”, said Megga, closing the door behind her.  “Sylva said you’d had a little girl.  Can I?”  Megga walked over to the bed and gestured to Lyanna.  Jon handed over his sleepy daughter, unable to remove the broad grin on his face.  He wasn’t sure he’d be able to do that for a while.  “She is beautiful!”

“She’s perfect”, said Sansa.  Jon grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly.  Not today or tomorrow, but one day very, very soon, he was going back to the jewellers where Robb had bought Jeyne’s ring.  He would buy one that matched Sansa’s description of her perfect ring.  And then, when the time was right, he would ask her to be his wife.  It wasn’t just Lyanna that was perfect in Jon’s eyes.  Sansa was too. 

And Jon would make sure what they had was forever. 

“Marge was convinced you were having a girl”, Megga told them.  She rolled her eyes.  “Trust her to be right.”

Sansa looked up at him.  “We should tell her.  We should tell everyone.”

“I’ll send a text to everyone in our contact lists”, Jon promised.  “When I get back through here.  In the meantime, though, I think you should get some rest while I introduce our daughter to her family.”

Sansa chuckled, but moved down in the bed.  Jon saw her wince and wondered how much pain she was still in.  Even with the pain relief he knew it could not have been easy for Sansa.  He kissed Sansa’s forehead and stood up, stretching his limbs.  In some ways, it felt like it had been days since they had arrived at Citadel for Robb and Jeyne’s engagement dinner. 

It had been a long night, and it didn’t help that he and Sansa had immediately used up all the energy they’d saved by having an afternoon nap. 

“Jon is right.  You should rest”, said Megga.  She handed Lyanna back over to Jon.  He was sure Robb, Arya and Rickon would get a good laugh out of the sight of him in the hospital gown he still wore.  But Jon couldn’t find it in himself to care about that.  He would endure a lifetime of humiliation and more for Sansa and their daughter. 

“I see I’m outnumbered”, said Sansa.  “Don’t be long, though.  Lyanna needs her rest as much as I do.  You’ll ask them?”

“I won’t be long.  I promise.  And yes, I will ask”, Jon replied.  Sansa adjusted the pillows and closed her eyes.  Jon turned to Megga.  “I wonder if I could ask you to be my door opener?”

Megga laughed, but held the door open for Jon to walk out into the corridor.  Being as late as it was, there were few people around.  Only staff on night shift, checking everything was running smoothly.  Jon could vaguely make out cries and moans of pain coming from other rooms.  Lyanna was not the only babe who would be born this night. 

“Here we are, sweet thing”, Jon muttered to his daughter.  “Time to meet your slightly crazy family.”

He followed Megga down the corridor to the waiting room, and she held open the door in – wishing him good luck. 

It was Ned and Catelyn that Jon looked for first.  He saw the instantaneous tears of happiness that filled Catelyn’s eyes and knew immediately his mother would’ve had the same reaction.  Even Ned – always stoic – seemed to be full of emotion.  He ignored the gasps coming from the other awake Starks and went straight over to them. 

Jon smiled as he handed Lyanna over to her grandmother’s arms.  “I’d like you to meet your granddaughter – Lyanna Catelyn Snow.”

Catelyn gasped, partly, Jon assumed, at the sight of her first grandchild, and partly at the name he and Sansa had chosen together.  Jon watched as Catelyn cradled Lyanna, muttering away. 

“How is Sansa?” Ned asked him. 

“Resting”, said Jon.  He fidgeted with Lyanna’s cream blanket.  “She did amazing.”

“Who does she look like?” Robb asked.  He hovered over his mother’s shoulder and smiled down at his niece.  Jon turned to see Gendry rousing Arya and Jeyne waking Bran and Rickon. 

“She has Sansa’s eyes”, said Jon. 

“She’s tiny”, Rickon put in.  “It’s almost like she’s a real person.”

“She is a real person, doofus”, Arya retorted, punching her youngest brother’s shoulder.  “Wow.  He is right, though, she’s a tiny little thing.  What’s her name?”

“Lyanna Catelyn”, Jon replied.  He took his daughter from Ned’s arms, Catelyn having passed her over.  Jon thought his daughter was going to need to get used to that.  The Starks had always been a close family and Jon knew Lyanna would be as treasured as any other member of the clan.  She’d be fussed over and cradled and carried around by each and every one of them. 

“Can I hold her?” Arya asked.  Jon nodded, and shushed Lyanna before placing her in her aunt’s arms.  Arya had been so supportive to Sansa throughout her pregnancy.  It had come as a bit of a surprise to all of them that the very-not-maternal Arya had been so excited by the idea of a niece or nephew.  But Jon knew how much it had meant to Sansa that she and Arya had grown closer over the last few months. 

Jon had also been pleased.  He’d come, over the years, to find Arya a little bit like the younger sister he never had.  It had been a relief to find Arya so supportive of them.

“Make sure to support her head”, Jon reminded Arya.  Lyanna was still asleep, unaware of how much attention she was already receiving.  Recalling his earlier conversation with Sansa while Lyanna suckled at her breast, Jon turned to Robb.  “Would you like to hold her next?”

Robb laughed.  “Are we all to take a turn?”

“Perhaps”, Jon shrugged.  “I’ve a feeling Lyanna will need to get used to it.  So – what do you think?  Would you like to hold her?  Your niece – and…..if you want her to be – your god-daughter.”

Robb was silent for a moment, but Jon could see the emotion in his face and the way he fidgeted with the lapel of his suit jacket.  “You – you really mean that?”

Jon caught the catch in Robb’s voice and nodded. 

“Sansa and I talked about it.  You are her brother and the closest thing I have to one.  I know that we haven’t seen eye to eye all of the last few months.  I know it was difficult for you to come to terms with what happened between Sansa and I.  But, you are our family and Lyanna’s.  And we would like you and Jeyne to be our daughter’s god-parents.”

“Yes”, Robb said immediately.  Jon pulled Robb into a tight hug and thanked him.  He knew how much this would mean to Sansa.  And how much it meant to him.  It was them drawing a line under what had happened in the early days of Sansa’s pregnancy and moving forward. 

“Here”, said Arya, handing Lyanna over to her eldest uncle.  “She’s still sleeping.”

Jon watched as Arya gently moved Lyanna into Robb’s arms.  Jon had never seen Arya be so tender and careful with anything or anyone and smiled at her.  His daughter was going to have the best aunt in Westeros.  Seeing the two of them together, Jon wondered how long it would be before Arya added to Ned and Catelyn’s grand-children. 

“Hey, there”, Jon heard Robb whisper to Lyanna.  “I’m Uncle Robb.  Gods, she’s amazing.  I don’t think I’ve ever – just……wow…….”

“Yeah, keep saying that to yourself over and over again for a couple of hours and you’ll be where I am”, said Jon.  A small part of him still couldn’t believe he’d had a role in creating someone as amazing as Lyanna.  At less than a day old she had captured his heart completely. 

**********

He remained in the waiting room for another few moments, allowing Lyanna to meet her family, before taking her back along the corridor to the room where Sansa slept.  Doc. Mooton had said it was hospital policy to keep newborns with their mothers unless there was a medical reason to part them. 

Jon lay Lyanna down gently in the small crib the hospital had provided.  He settled her, arranging the blankets as Nurse Santagar had instructed earlier, and pressed a gentle kiss to his daughter’s forehead.  Jon knew he’d remember this night forever.  The night their first child was born. 

He didn’t wake Sansa, as much as he wanted to wish her goodnight.  Jon simply smiled as he wrote her a short note on a tissue next to her bed, letting Sansa know he would return later on in the day.  He also unlocked Sansa’s phone and sent a text message to all her contacts, before doing the same on his own. 

_Please welcome to the world Lyanna Catelyn Snow, born at 1.09 this morning.  A truly amazing gift.  Mother and baby are both doing well.  Love, Jon and Sansa._

Some of his mates would find it a bit soppy, but Jon couldn’t find it in him to mind. 

**********

When Jon woke up to his alarm around eleven, the sun was blazing through the curtains and it took him half a second to remember why Sansa wasn’t lying in bed next to him.  Jon felt a broad grin form across his face at the thought of Sansa and their daughter, who would be waking up in hospital.  Doc. Mooton had told him that barring any complications, Sansa and Lyanna would be able to come home on Monday afternoon, after her Monday rounds. 

Jon picked up his phone to find his inbox had been deluged by messages from well-wishers.  Some – like Edd – bemoaned the time Jon had sent the mass message.  But all offered their congratulations.  Jon grinned as he looked at the message Gilly had sent him, which he must have received only moments after falling asleep. 

_Up feeding Aemon.  Welcome to the lack-of-sleep club!  Lots of love to you and Sansa from Team Tarly.  Let us know when you would like visitors.  Gilly. x_

He stretched out and looked a little forlornly at the empty space next to him.  Although they hadn’t been together for very long, Jon struggled to recall what it was like to sleep alone.  To not have Sansa next to him, their bodies intertwining in the middle of the night as the subconsciously sought contact.  Sansa not being there was something Jon very much did _not_ want to get used to.

When he’d left the waiting room in the very early hours of the morning, Catelyn had made him promise to come over for something to eat a little after midday.  She’d planned an early lunch for them all before they made their way back to the hospital for afternoon visiting.  Though grateful for the offer, Jon was desperate to see Sansa and Lyanna again, and would happily have foregone the meal. 

Deciding he had to do something about responding to some of these messages, Jon flicked through his contacts list until he came to Sam’s name.  Although it had been Gilly who’d responded to his text message, Jon had been around them for long enough to know that when Gilly was up with one of the children during the night, Sam did his best to pick up the slack in the morning. 

Jon thought both Sams were probably currently enjoying pancakes while watching TV. 

Sam answered on the third ring.  “Congratulations!  I saw your message this morning.  Gilly mumbled something about it, and Aemon being up during the night, when Sam came through around six thirty this morning.  With it starting to get light earlier in the mornings, his sense of time is a bit…..off…..”

Jon grinned.  He had this to look forward to and couldn’t wait. 

“Thanks.”  Jon wondered if he’d be grinning permanently from now on.  It’d certainly be unnerving for those who knew him well.  “Yeah, Sansa – we were out for dinner and had to go straight to the hospital.  I’m sorry it meant I couldn’t come over this morning.  I got back to the house around four and just crashed.”

“I know the feeling.  It sounds like it was quick, though.  I remember when Sam was born.  We got to the hospital around lunchtime, and it was breakfast the following day before he appeared.”  Jon vaguely remembered that, now Sam brought it up.  He’d received a text message saying Gilly was in labour and had to wait until the following morning for Sam to confirm his son’s birth. 

“Sansa had indigestion…..well, what we thought was indigestion……and it started early afternoon.  So it wasn’t as quick as all that.  Listen, Gilly mentioned in her text something about coming over when we’re ready for visitors?”  Jon thought it spoke volumes that Gilly, herself a mother, knew to give them time to themselves to acclimatize.  “If you let her know that I’ll ask Sansa when I go in this afternoon.  Find out from her how soon she thinks she might be up to visitors.  She was pretty tired afterwards.”

“And how is Lyanna?  I like you chose that name.  Who does she look like?”

Jon chuckled.  “Her name was Sansa’s idea, but it – it means a lot for her to choose it.  She has my hair and Sansa’s eyes.  Catelyn said she has more of a Stark look than a Tully one.  She’s…..gods, Sam, she’s just perfect.  I’d forgotten from seeing Sam and Aemon just how small newborns are.”

“Tell Sansa we all send our love and that Sam was very excited when I told him about the baby.  He understands, after Aemon.”  Jon was touched by that.  His godson had always been a sweet little thing, the embodiment of all that was good in his parents. 

“I will do.”

**********

When he walked along the hospital corridor to Sansa and Lyanna’s room, Jon felt a great sense of relief that Catelyn’s desire to see her new grand-daughter again, to hold her in her arms, had won out over her need to ensure everyone who visited her home left well-fed.  It had been a short, though by no means meagre, lunch she had provided them with. 

And then, they had all piled into cars and driven to Wintertown General.  Jon had to stop himself from running along the corridor and settle for walking as quickly as he could get away with.  Even now, it did not fail to amaze Jon just how much Sansa had brought him out of himself.  How easily she had got under his skin and allowed him to be vulnerable with her, by being so with him. 

He opened the door to see what was fast becoming the most beautiful sight in his eyes, Lyanna lying in Sansa’s arms.  Sansa was sitting up in bed, cradling their daughter, with a smile on her face as she muttered sweet words to Lyanna.  The smile grew when Sansa saw them all pile in.  Jon wasn’t entirely sure if the hospital permitted so many visitors at once, but if they didn’t ask then they might get away with it. 

“Oh, sweetheart!” Catelyn exclaimed as she brought Sansa into a gently hug, enveloping her and Lyanna.  “She is a dear little thing.  I cannot tell you how happy she made me!  How happy she has made all of us.  How is she feeding?”

“Well.  We’re both getting the hang of it, aren’t we sweet nugget?” Sansa replied.  Jon’s eyes locked on hers and it felt as if the two of them and Lyanna were the only people in the room. 

As much as Jon knew Sansa wanted her family around her, to celebrate with them, and as much as he knew how beloved Lyanna already was by the Starks, Jon couldn’t wait for the moment when the three of them went back home, to their cottage, to begin life as a proper family.

“Sam and Gilly send their love”, Jon told her.  “We’ve to let them know when you’re ready for visitors.  Apparently little Sam was very excited when he was told.”

Sansa smiled gently.  “He is such a sweet little thing, your godson.  And speaking of…..”

“Yes”, replied Jon.  He glanced at Robb. 

“Oh.  Yeah.  Right.”  Robb rolled his eyes.  “We’d love to be Lyanna’s godparents, wouldn’t we?”  He grabbed Jeyne’s hand and had Jon wondering whether the two of them would wait until after their wedding to start a family of their own.  Even a few weeks ago, Jon hadn’t thought them ready – at least, not Robb – but seeing him less than twelve hours before, with Lyanna in his arms, he wasn’t sure. 

Robb was already acting the very protective uncle.  Jon couldn’t blame him.  He saw himself as someone who was going to be a massively over-protective father. 

Catelyn went to sit on the other side of the bed, and once Ned had fussed over Lyanna, Jon finally got to get a proper look at his daughter again.  It didn’t seem to have been less than a day since he’d seen her last, but Jon thought he could already detect changes in her.  Seeming to know instantly what he wanted, Sansa raised Lyanna and delivered her into his arms. 

Jon ignored the conversation going on around him and instead had a silent one with the babe in his arms.  He promised to protect and defend and support her.  He promised to love her unconditionally forever.  He promised to be the father she deserved and to do everything in his power to make Lyanna and her mother smile. 

He bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to his daughter’s head.  Whatever made her happy would make him happy.  Jon had never considered himself to be the most selfish of beings.  Yes, he had desires and wants like any other man.  But he did not allow them to rule him.  This tiny babe, though, she removed more of those selfish desires than anyone he had ever met. 

Because if Jon had to choose between what he wanted and what Lyanna wanted, he already knew this tiny, fierce little girl would win out each and every time. 

A small hand escaped from underneath the blanket Sansa had swaddled her in and Jon held out a finger for her to grasp on to. 

“You’re going to be a great dad”, he heard Robb tell him in a low breath.  Jon lifted his eyes from Lyanna and smiled at his oldest friend. 

“Thank you.”

Jon ignored the commotion he could overhear in the hallway and Arya’s comment that Lyanna clearly already had him wrapped around her finger.  He bit his tongue and held back from pointing out that if the past twelve hours were anything to go by, then Lyanna had won the hearts and attention of everyone crammed into the small room. 

“Here you are!”  Jon turned to see what he now figured to be the cause of at least some of the commotion he’d overheard – Margaery, come to visit Sansa with at least half a dozen pink balloons (one of which had Lyanna’s name on it, which had Jon wondering just where she’d procured that on a Sunday with half the shops in Wintertown closed) and a massive stuffed unicorn he estimated to be at least three times Lyanna’s size. 

While Margaery went over to hug Sansa, Jon mentally visualized the nursery at home to try and figure out where he could put it. 

“Darling, you look fabulous!” Margaery told Sansa.  She handed the balloons and stuffed unicorn over to Gendry, and hugged Sansa tightly.  Jon saw her wince – he knew she’d still be a bit tender for a bit – but when they parted Sansa wore a winning smile. 

“Thank you, Marge”, Sansa giggled.  “You always did go over the top.”

“No less than you deserve.  And where is the sweet little treasure?”

“Here she is”, said Jon.  He made sure Margaery was sitting comfortably on the chair next to Sansa’s bed before he handed over his daughter.  If this was anything to go by, it wasn’t only the Starks that would be spoiling Lyanna. 

“She’s so tiny!” Margaery sighed.  “And well done, darling, for doing it all on your own.  It must’ve hurt tremendously.” 

“Lyanna was worth it”, Sansa told her.  Jon grabbed Sansa’s hand, and rubbed soft, soothing circles into her palm.  He couldn’t wait until it was just the three of them. 

**********

On Monday afternoon, Jon went back to the hospital alone to pick up Sansa and Lyanna.  Catelyn and Ned had offered to come and help, but Jon had said they’d be fine.  He hadn’t been able to go and see them that morning, though Arya and Gendry had stopped in on their way back to White Harbour.  Arya had promised to visit again, soon, and stay with them as they’d arranged.

He’d had a bit of a lie in, catching up on some sleep, after Robb had insisted on taking him out for a couple of drinks (they _did_ manage to limit themselves to _just the couple_ this time) to celebrate Lyanna’s birth, and he’d also run into the office for half an hour.  His leave would be starting today, earlier than planned, and he wanted to ensure everything was organized. 

If it came to it, he was a phone call away and could always log in from home on his laptop. 

Jon couldn’t deny, though, that the thought of three whole weeks with Sansa and Lyanna to himself filled him with excitement and happiness. 

Once Doc. Mooton had given Sansa and Lyanna the all-clear, and arranged an appointment with the community nurse to visit in a fortnight for a check-up, Jon had made a quick trip down to the car before he helped Sansa down with Lyanna.  Having spent most of the last two days in bed, Sansa was a little wobbly on her feet, and so Jon carried their daughter in her new car seat – which Nurse Santagar inspected before allowing them to drive off. 

Sansa sat in the back seat with Lyanna, singing away to their daughter.  Jon thought he recognized the lyrics to the Marillion song Sansa had sung along with in his car all those weeks ago.  He smiled at that.  He liked to think of Sansa singing to Lyanna.  The gods knew he could barely hold a tune. 

The sight of the two of them together when he glanced in the mirror, though, made Jon’s heart skip a beat.  They were his life.  His everything.  And as he had promised Robb over their whiskey the night before, it would not be long before he bought a ring just like the one Sansa had described. 

Jon pulled up at the cottage and ran around to the other side of the car to help Sansa out.  They waved to their neighbour, Miss Poole, who was looking at them from her window, and went to unbuckle Lyanna’s car seat. 

“I’ll come back out in a bit to bring everything inside”, Jon told Sansa.  He took her hand in his and walked up the pathway to the front door.  Jon opened it and glanced down at their little nugget, his heart filled to the brim with love for Lyanna and Sansa.  “Welcome home, Lyanna.”

**********

As late summer fell on Westeros, Jon took Sansa and Lyanna on the family trip he’d suggested months before, to the site of the Battle of Oxcross.  While they were away, he finally took out the ring he’d been carrying around since a fortnight after Lyanna’s birth, and asked Sansa to be his wife. 

They were married outside, in an old godswood, in a snow-laden Wolfswood Country Park, three days before Christmas.  It was a small wedding, with only a few short months preparation, but one attended by those who were important to them. 

Jon and Sansa’s second (and by no means last) child was born nine months later. 


End file.
